Listen To Your Heart
by Venused
Summary: Rachel ran into Chandler by chance, setting in motion a life-changing sequence of events that would alter Monica's ideas about love forever. Mondler. Rachoey. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Listen To Your Heart - Chapter One**

xx

"Monica? Ross? You guys will never guess who I ran into today!" Rachel squealed excitedly as she entered the apartment that she shared with Monica. She dumped her armload of designer-label shopping bags and packages onto the kitchen table and turned to face the living room, where Monica and her brother were sitting, watching TV.

"Are you gonna tell us? Or are we gonna have to guess?" Ross asked in a very unenthused voice. Recently, Ross hadn't had much of a sense of humour and had been unusually distant from his friends, immersing himself into paleontology, barely acknowledging Rachel or Monica's presence in his life. Ever since he and Rachel had split up a few months prior, Ross had found it hard to be around her without yearning. They were slowly re-building their friendship, but sometimes things between them were still strained.

Monica however, seemed vaguely interested in hearing what Rachel had to say, "Do we know him or her?"

"Yeah, it's a him and yeah, you know him. Both of you've met him, actually. Y'know Ross's college roommate? Chandler Bing? I bumped into him in Bloomingdale's. He was picking up some gift for his mother," Rachel drawled animatedly, not noticing the scowl that had formed on Monica's face at the mention of Chandler's name.

"Chandler? Chandler Bing?" Monica scoffed, openly displaying her dislike of him, "_That_ jerk. My God, he was such an idiot. Do you remember that stupid haircut of his? I think–"

"Monica," Rachel cut her off, with surprising sternness, "He's really grown up since college. Today he was very sweet and polite to me. And he's really grown into his looks! He's actually quite attractive." Ross' jealous glare bore into Rachel's skull, but she continued talking, taking no notice, "He recognized me – I wouldn't have known it was him, if he hadn't called out my name. He also said he works for some big office company. Y'know he's even got–"

"Yeah, yeah, enough about Mr. Big Shot Bing. I don't care!" Monica interrupted Rachel under her breath, but loud enough for her to hear. Rachel rolled her eyes at Monica's behaviour. She was being so childish; Rachel expected this sort of behaviour from Ross, who was known to be a complainer, but not from her mature roommate.

Ignoring his sister, Ross pursued the conversation. He seemed more interested in participating now that he knew who they were talking about, "Chandler Bing? I don't think I've seen him in - God! It must be over five years! Since not too long after college grad. We kind of lost touch; I was getting my doctorate and he moved to LA…" He paused as if reminiscing. "What'd you guys have to talk about? You barely knew him! Or did you?" Ross eyed her suspiciously, as if he thought she and Chandler may have been conducting a years-long affair. Rachel rolled her eyes at Ross's now typical jealous behaviour.

"Ross!" Rachel snipped, "I just told you, I didn't even recognize him! He recognized _me_! Probably because you kept that awful picture of me on your nightstand, all through college!"

"What!" Ross questioned, looking alarmed, "How did you know about that!" Catching the guilty half-smile on his sister's face, he glared at her, "Monica!"

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't know it was a big secret. Besides she's my best friend! I tell her stuff!" Monica shrugged, looking decidedly apologetic.

Opting to accept that and move on, Ross continued his previous line of questioning, "So what did you and Chandler talk about, Rach?"

Rachel shrugged, "Aah, Nothing much, y'know small talk. He invited me to dinner tonight at six – small place on Bleeker. Said his friend really recommended it. Italian, I think it was? Anyway, he asked me to invite you two along when I mentioned we were still in contact."

"Great!" Ross seemed genuinely happy upon receiving the invite, "I know I can make it. You said six, right?"

"Yeah. Oh, and dress up, the place is semi-formal."

"Okay," Ross responded cheerfully, causing both his sister and ex-girlfriend to look at him strangely. Ross _actually_ seemed genuinely happy.

"So he invited me?" Monica asked, deciding to re-join the conversation, "Are you sure I'm not too _fat_ for him to _squeeze_ into a booth with me?" She asked mockingly.

"Jeez, what's with you Mon? You're acting more sorry for yourself than Ross today." Ross sat on the couch and shrugged, accepting Rachel's accusation, not looking offended in the least. Monica, however, turned pink.

"Nothing," Monica stated defensively, turning her head away from Rachel and pretending to stare at the TV, hoping Rachel would take the incentive and leave her alone.

Ignoring Monica's hints, Rachel continued, "What do you have against Chandler? I never told him you lost the weight, by the way; I thought you might like to surprise him."

"Nothing, alright? Nothing. I'm sure he is a perfectly charming guy, whom I am also sure would love to go out with _you_! Not me! Not stupid, ugly, fat Monica. See, it has nothing to do with me? Okay? And you never told him I was skinny? So he thinks he's inviting a 'big-fat-whale-sized-cow Monica' to dinner?" Monica grimaced as she said this, looking as if she had swallowed a lemon.

Rachel found herself getting irritated with Monica's sarcasm, "What? I don't want to go out with him! He's just a friend who invited us to dinner. He's bringing his roommate for God's sake, it's nothing romantic!"

By now the argument between his sister and friend had won out Ross's attention over the program he had been watching.

"Correction! He asked _you_ out to dinner, not Ross or I. He clearly only asked us as an afterthought, because you mentioned you still hung out with us. I guess I just don't suit his tastes or something," Monica huffed, irritably.

"Stop being so stupid!" Rachel returned, furiously, "He asked me to invite you and Ross. Clearly he wants to see you or he wouldn't have asked! He seemed genuinely excited about seeing you guys, too!"

"He asked us _after_ he asked you," Monica muttered, petulantly.

"What's the difference? We'll all be there," Rachel suggested, reasonably. "Do you not want to see Chandler or something? You hate him?"

Monica glared at her roommate. "No."

"Yes you do, don't you lie to me Monica E. Geller. C'mon, tell me why you hate him so much?" Rachel goaded.

"I don't hate him. I just don't like him." Monica mumbled, glaring at the floor, refusing to meet Rachel's eyes.

"Uh huh. Yeah, sure, because that's not the same thing at all!"

Monica rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"So?" Rachel asked, the fire in her eyes clearly showing she would not rest until she had her answer.

"So what?" Monica asked, pretending not to know what was being asked of her.

"Don't play stupid with me, Monica." Rachel said, sitting down next to her roommate, "Why don't you like Chandler?"

"Because I said so!" Monica snapped, turning away.

"That's not a valid answer!"

"Fine," Monica relented, obviously displeased.

Rachel looked more than a little eager at the thought of partaking in some juicy gossip. "So?"

"He called me fat," Monica revealed huffily, making it clear she was not happy about having to answer.

Rachel laughed. "That's it? He called you fat? When?"

"In senior year," Monica explained, "After Thanksgiving dinner, when he and Ross were washing the dishes."

"That's eight years ago Mon!"

"So?"

"You're being ridiculous," Rachel suggested, "Holding a grudge for eight years over something so insignificant! Look, it was awful he called you fat, but honey, you kind of were. He shouldn't have said it, but he was a stupid, shallow teenager. You're going to come to dinner with Ross and I and talk to him. End of story."

"But – I – No – I – don't want to," Monica stuttered, not used to the dominating attitude Rachel was currently wielding. Rachel was usually the laid back one, who let things go however Monica wanted them to.

Rachel took a deep breath, knowing she was about to tread in dangerous territory, "Monica," she said in what she hoped was a sympathetic tone, "It's okay, I know you're scared – frightened – petrified – whatever, of rejection," She smiled inwardly, knowing by the furious look on Monica's face that she was reacting exactly as Rachel had hoped she would; Monica hated anyone insinuating she was intimidated by anyone or anything, "But that shouldn't stop you from coming to dinner with us. I'm sure Chandler will be perfectly friendly, but of course, if you are too scared to come… you can always–"

"Fine! I'll come, but I'm not happy about it and I'm not talking to him. Ever," Monica interrupted, childishly. Rachel folded her arms triumphantly, knowing she had won the little game she was playing with her roommate. Ross smirked at their antics and returned to watching the documentary on sea turtle mating patterns he had flipped on before the fight broke out, pleased that neither of the girls was noticing – or criticizing, as they usually did – his choice of the discovery channel. Both women were far too embroiled in their own thoughts to care.

Monica looked upward and exhaled loudly, blowing several strands of her raven-coloured hair out of her face angrily. Losing at anything, even an insignificant argument was not something Monica would ever be proud of, but she could let that go – just this once. Besides she really did want to show off her new figure to Chandler and prove she wasn't the fat girl he accused her of being. And maybe, even a teeny, tiny part of her wanted to see what he looked like, too.

Out of the corner of her eye, Monica caught sight of Rachel smirking, a triumphant glint in usually calm blue eyes. Monica scowled, scooting down the couch, so she was seated as far away from Rachel as possible.

xx

_There is far too little Mondler left in this fandom, so I've decided to do my part and contribute! This is an old story of mine, once posted under another penname, with the title of 'Matchmaker,' if it seems familiar to anyone. With the help of a good friend (you know who you are!) I've decided to completely rework this and repost it. I've already got several chapters written, but I love to see reviews and hear your comments and opinions :) They'll definitely make the chapters come faster, too._


	2. Chapter 2

**Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Two**

xx

Not knowing why she felt so tense about a simple meeting with an old acquaintance – if Chandler could even be called that – Monica nervously entered the restaurant that Rachel had said they were meeting Ross, Chandler and his roommate in. Monica suddenly felt a stab of jealousy towards her carefree, easy-going roommate. Rachel hardly seemed stressed or nerve-wracked. She watched in silence, forcing herself not to roll her eyes, as Rachel flirtingly spoke to the maître d' who was leading them into the seating area of the restaurant. He snaked a pathway around the tables and dining patrons, not missing a beat in his conversation with Rachel. He hardly even acknowledged Monica's presence, aside from a brief, curt nod as Rachel introduced her. Monica didn't mind much, but sometimes such situations poked annoyingly at her self-esteem.

When both girls were seated, they noticed two of the five chairs were still unoccupied. Only Ross was sitting in his seat, playing with and making sound effects for a napkin he had carefully folded into the shape of a dinosaur. When he had noticed Rachel and Monica approaching the table, he tried to discreetly tuck his napkin creation under the table and unfold it. The girls smiled at his actions. Classic dorky Ross.

"I was just, just –uhm– wiping up some, ah water, yeah, water that I spilled on the table. Yeah that's it," Ross told Rachel sheepishly, "I am completely, totally cool."

"Where's Chandler and his friend? Aren't they here, yet?" Monica asked impatiently, in spite of her nervousness, ignoring her brother and his dumb napkin. She was beginning to realize just how curious she was if anything her roommate had said about Chandler was true. Rachel was known to be a gossip and exaggerate the truth. To be honest, Monica half-expected Chandler to be the same dorky college kid, with the same stupid haircut he had eight years ago. He really couldn't have changed as much as Rachel made it sound he had.

"Oh, they're outside making a phone call to some woman. Flora or Feebs or something like that. A close friend of theirs," Ross explained to the girls. Hearing this news, Monica felt strangely annoyed that Chandler hadn't been there to witness her entrance and instead had been talking to some woman. A semi-awkward silence reigned over the trio of close friends, as they sipped their water or fiddled with their napkins and cutlery.

Monica looked around the restaurant idly, wondering what was taking Chandler and his friend so long, when she spotted a sandy-haired man approaching their side of the restaurant. In tow was a slightly shorter, darker-haired man. Despite the distance between them she could clearly see the first man had amazingly blue eyes. She smiled slightly. He was cute. Why didn't guys like that ever notice her? They both looked in her direction, and seemed to smile directly at her. Embarrassed at getting caught staring, Monica returned to folding her napkin neatly and straightening the saltshakers and her silverware.

She was surprised when a few seconds later the two men slid into the seats in between Ross and Rachel. Monica was immediately taken aback. _That_ was Chandler? Rachel had been right, she reluctantly admitted to herself. Chandler most definitely had matured since she had last seen him; in fact, he hardly resembled his former self. His flock-of-seagulls haircut was long gone and replaced with a shorter, more clean-cut one; he was not as skinny and gangly as he had been, although he was slightly taller. He was definitely attractive. And his eyes… they had never been that blue, had they? Realizing she was staring once again, and to make matters worse, blushing like highschooler with a crush, Monica scolded herself for even thinking about him like that. 'You hate him, remember?' her brain insisted. Forcing her thoughts elsewhere, she turned to glance at his roommate. He seemed familiar somehow… but she couldn't quite place him. Rachel obviously could, because she was acting like a giggly schoolgirl meeting a celebrity. A celebrity? Possibly. He certainly had an actor-like quality about him and Rachel was famous for knowing all the latest celebrity gossip. She shrugged off her thoughts and focused on what Chandler was saying.

"Hello, Rach," He paused to peck Rachel on the cheek, "And you must be Monica?" He asked politely, addressing her with a smile. Monica felt a surge of satisfaction as he focused on her, his eyebrows raised, clearly wondering if she was the same 'Monica Geller' he knew from the lone time he had met her years previous. Despite that, Monica couldn't help but smile back, his smile was contagious. As much as she wanted to hate him for his stupid comment years ago, with a smile like that… she just couldn't. "I'm sorry," he apologized, "It's just… you look so much different from the last time I saw you. You look great, really amazingly beautiful," he beamed at her and Monica forced away another smile upon hearing the compliment. 'Hate him. Hate him. He called you fat! He only likes skinny you. Hate him,' her brain screamed.

He offered her his hand in a friendly gesture, which she accepted politely, trying to seem calm and collected and not as confused as she felt. Why was she suddenly feeling so self-conscious around Chandler Bing of all people?

"I want you both to meet my roommate and best friend, Joey Tribbianni. Joe, this is Monica, Ross's sister, and Rachel, their friend," Chandler introduced. Handshakes were casually exchanged. Rachel refused to let go of Joey's hand, at first, "Are you really Joey Tribbianni? Oh my God, Oh my God! I love your show! I can't believe I'm meeting you! In person! You're like, the hottest soap actor, ever! You're Dr. Drake Ramoray, from DOOL!"

"You call it DOOL, too?" Joey asked excitedly.

"Uh, yeah!" Rachel replied indignantly, as if it was the obvious answer. Within seconds the two were deeply immersed in a conversation about Joey's soap opera career that none of the others were interested in hearing. Ross looked extremely uncomfortable at the cosiness between Rachel and Joey, but shrugged it off. Nothing would happen. Right?

"So…" Ross, Monica and Chandler chorused simultaneously. They laughed at their weak attempt to start a conversation; glad the ice had been broken.

xx

"Oh my God, you're kidding!" Monica giggled, "I can't believe a woman actually stapled your hand to a desk." She and Chandler had been talking for the last 20 minutes. The others, unable to get a word in edgewise, had started talking amongst themselves, though neither Monica or Chandler seemed to notice their absence from the conversation. They were both busy reveling in their new found chemistry.

"Yeah, me neither," Chandler shook his head, smiling ruefully at the memory. "That's the kind of thing that happens to me, and only me," he explained, pointing at himself, "I'm telling you, I have a 'relationship catastrophe' magnet glued to my ass, that only attracts desperate or mentally unstable women." Chandler grinned more broadly than before when Monica laughed at his joke.

"I don't know if you can blame your magnet, here, though. I think it has more to do with you lying to the woman!" Monica shot back.

"Hey!" Chandler returned, defending himself, "I wanted her to like me! You try having to fire a woman you really like! It's harder than it sounds!"

"I don't really swing that way," Monica teased.

"You know what I mean! What would you do if you had to fire some super hunky guy, then?" Chandler proposed, hypothetically. "You'd just fire him and then proceed to ask him if he'd like to grab a bite to eat?" he suggested, the expression on his face making it clear how ridiculous he thought the idea was.

Monica, however, took the question a little more seriously. "That's not really a problem for me," Monica sighed, "My job sucks. The staff hate me; they don't listen to a word I say. Don't think I'd ever like any of them enough to care about firing one of them. Not that they'd listen to me if I tried to fire them anyway…"

"I'm sorry," Chandler offered, "I didn't mean to bring up a sore spot."

"You didn't, really. My job sucks and I've gotten used to it. I'm always on the hunt for a better one. Trust me, though, it's better than some jobs I've had. I actually used to dance on table tops wearing a blond wig and flame-retardant fake boobs at thi-"

Chandler' eyes widened, as he interrupted, "You used to be a stripper?!"

"What no!" Monica asked, shocked, "Do I _look_ like a stripper to you?!"

"Nooo, of course not! That's why I was so surprised. You look way too – um - reserved and, um, you know, respectful of your body to do that kind of thing," Chandler fumbled desperately for an explanation. "Not that I think you're frigid or standoffish, either!" he added, unable to believe that the words he was saying were actually coming out of his mouth, "You're definitely hot enough. Classy hot, though, not stripper hot. It's like-"

Chandler fumbled for additional words to gloss over what he'd already said, his face flaming a bright red, eventually settling on, "Shut up, Chandler! Shut up, Chandler!"

Monica smirked, unable to help herself. She found herself thinking that he was incredibly cute, his face all pink, mouth curved into a sheepish smile, trying to fix what he'd muddled up. "Are you done?"

"Yes. I'm sorry," he supplied, "I'm an idiot."

"Nah," Monica smiled, admitting, "I think it was sweet."

"Sweet? Sweet! Did you not hear what I just said? I couldn't have said it worse if I'd had four tongues!" he scoffed.

"Well," Monica explained, "You did say I was 'classy hot.' I think that warrants forgiveness, if nothing else."

Chandler blushed furiously, mumbling, "You are, though." Monica heard it and a pleased smirk flitted across her face.

"Anyway…" she said, "As I was saying, before you interrupted me… I used to be a singing, dancing waitress at a 50s era diner, before I landed the job I have now."

"You're a chef, now, though, right?" Chandler confirmed, more than pleased to move past the previous topic.

Monica smiled, delighted that he'd clearly remembered when she had mentioned her profession, earlier.

"You actually kind of inspired me to become one, when you said you liked my mac and cheese. You know, back in '87?" Monica explained, her cheeks colouring slightly at the memory.

"You're kidding!" Chandler scoffed, "I was such an idiot back then, I can't believe you actually cared about my opinion! Didn't you see my hair? You took career advice from someone looking like _that_?" Chandler asked incredulously.

Monica shrugged, "I thought your hair was unique."

"Unique?" Chandler smirked, "It that your way of saying 'gay'?"

"What! No!" Monica shook her head adamantly, "I liked it. I thought it was charming, you know, in a dorky way."

"Can't hear that enough," he joked. "I am known to be quite the charmer, though, you know, seducing women into stapling my hands to desks and handcuffing me to chairs and all…" Chandler laughed, comfortable enough to poke fun at himself.

"I like your hair much better, now though," Monica explained. She reached a hand across the table to run it through his hair, unable to believe that she'd worked up the nerve to do so. "Much cuter than before," she explained. His hair was incredibly soft and Monica had to fight to pull her hand away. She glanced at his face, then his lips, briefly, wondering if they were equally soft. Blushing at the direction her thoughts had taken, Monica forced herself back to reality.

Chandler burst into a grin, in spite of himself, reaching up to feel his hair, as if the feel of the strands beneath his fingers might confirm what Monica was saying. The spot where she'd touched his head was still burning, aftershocks of the electricity of the moment still crackling through his veins. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," Monica nodded, the remnants of her blush still colouring her cheeks.

"Thanks," he murmured. "Anyway," he added, anxious to move on, and clear his head, "I know you're a chef, but you've never told me where. What restaurant?"

"Allesandro's. It's this tiny Italian restaur-"

"Wait!" Chandler interrupted, "Did you say Allesandro's? Homey little restaurant on fifth?"

"Yeah," Monica agreed, hesitantly, "Why?"

"It's right across the street from my office! Me and the guys from work eat there on lunch break all the time! The food is awesome. I love, love, _love_ the Ravioli."

"Really?" Monica beamed. "That's one of my signature dishes! When I first started as a chef there, I was given free reign to change up the menu. That's one of the things I added. The sauce is entirely homemade. I call it 'Monica's Savoury Sauce,'" Monica explained, excitedly.

"That must be why it's so good," Chandler complimented, "You're an awesome chef!"

"Thanks. I can't believe you're one of the 'weenies,' though!" Monica laughed.

"I compliment your ravioli, and you repay me by calling me a weenie?" Chandler mocked teasingly, "I'm beginning to see why you're still single."

"No, no," Monica laughed, "You got me wrong. 'The Weenies' is the nickname the staff at Allesandro's give to the guys who work in the office building across the street. The place is always flooded with them during the lunch rush, and they're always talking about some wenus thing. We're not quite sure what it means, but we think it has something to do with their jobs. Anyway, we call them the 'Weenies' because they're always talking about that wenus thing. Hey! You might know, being a 'Weenie', and all… what is it?"

"Okay. You explained it and all, but it still hurts," Chandler teased.

"Sorry, force of habit," Monica laughed. "Anything I can do to make it up to you?" she asked flirtingly.

A number of impure thoughts whirlwinded through his head, before he settled on, "Promise it won't happen again."

Monica smirked, "Deal."

"The WENUS is an acronym for Weekly Estimated Net Usage Statistics, by the way," Chandler explained, "It's basically a measure of the weekly production level in my company. Sounds a lot more fun than it is. It has nothing to do with anyone's wenuses, sadly," he deadpanned.

"Huh, yeah. I'm sorry I asked. I was hoping for something a little more scandalous. 'Wenus,' the way the staff at Allesandro's imagined it, was a lot more fun," Monica joked, adding curiously, "You don't seem all that thrilled about your job?"

"No, there's not really much to be thrilled about. I input numbers from a big book into a database. I hate it, but it pays well and has great benefits. It's really only a means for me to support my, uh-" he stumbled, "Joey and you know, buy food and stuff."

"What did you want to do, you know, as a kid, then?" Monica asked, genuinely curious.

"Write. I wanted to write. I was an English major in college, before I got stuck in my miserable temp job. I think it has something to do with my Mom, being a writer. I mean, she was never a great role model or anything, but I guess," he looked upwards, almost as if he was looking for answers, hoping they may be etched on the ceiling, "I don't know, maybe I wanted to make her proud? Maybe get her to acknowledge I actually existed? Ugh, sorry I'm being such a loser and blabbing about my lame childhood," Chandler looked at her, making his 'I'm a loser' face.

"Hey," Monica soothed, "I'm no stranger to parent related anxiety. I've lived in Ross' shadow my entire life. Nothing I've ever done has ever reached the bar he's set in my parent's eyes. It's hard when you never feel good enough."

Looking quickly in Ross's direction, as if he might stop her, screaming it was blasphemy, Monica reached her hand across the table, hesitantly, gently stroking Chandler's hand where it was resting next to his plate, "It's okay if you want to talk about it."

Ages ago, during a girls night in, both Monica and Rachel had both gotten really drunk, and Rachel had spilled all her 'first date secrets' as she called them. One such maneuver she had taught Monica was the 'sympathetic hand caress'. When Chandler began to speak again, easily talking about his parents and the injustices he went through as a child, Monica decided she'd have to thank Rachel later. 'Trust Rachel to know the fastest way to seduce a man,' Monica thought, smirking inwardly. Figuring she better start paying attention, if she wanted to get anywhere with Chandler, Monica snapped back to attention, listening carefully to every word, while staring helplessly into his eyes "-Joey and Phoebe are basically my family, now. They're the ones I count on and spend holidays with. Even now, my parents are flitting off around the world, absorbed in their own lives. Sometimes they even forget to call on my birthday."

"I'm sorry," Monica sympathized, "That must be hard."

"Yeah," he admitted, grabbing her hand, gently from where it had been resting on top of his own, playing with her fingers, "but you get used to it. It's something I've dealt with my whole life. I've got great friends to rely on now. I just hope that as a father, you know, uh, when become one, that I won't repeat those mistakes. I'd hate for my child to ever to feel like I did growing up."

"That's so sweet, Chandler," Monica smiled tenderly up at him, "that you're even thinking about something like that." She squeezed his hand. He'd make a great father, she decided. To _their_ children. 'No,' Monica chastised herself, 'you haven't even been on a real date with the guy, and you're already planning his future kids for him?'

She added a moment later, "I'm sure you'd be a great father. I bet you just need to find the right woman," Chandler smiled uncomfortably at the compliment, in his discomfort glossing over the fact that Monica had implied with subtle body language that she might be that woman.

"Yeah, I agree. Having a 'Mommy' is an important part of being a 'Daddy,'" Chandler agreed somewhat wistfully. His voice cleared a moment later. "So how come you haven't found a 'Daddy' to your 'Mommy,' yet?" he added with a teasing lilt to his voice, though the question was decidedly serious.

"My love life is all but non-existent," Monica sighed, looking discouraged, "I haven't had a date in months, let alone a good one," she explained, and with a sudden burst of bravery added, "This is the closest thing to a good date, I've had in ages." When Chandler failed to comment on the implication, or suggest they go on a proper date, as Monica had hoped he would, she shrunk back in her seat a little, wondering if the chemistry between them was all in her head.

"How is that possible?" Chandler posed, incredulous. "You're gorgeous! And smart! And funny and sweet. How is there not a gaggle of men tripping over themselves to go out with you?" he wondered, looking down at her hand, which was still captured within his own, before looking up, and smiling directly into her eyes.

"A gaggle?" Monica laughed at his unusual choice of word.

"Yeah, a gaggle," Chandler agreed, smiling into her eyes. "Do you have a problem with my vocabulary?" he teased, leaning closer to her and staring hard into her eyes, as if challenging her.

"Yes. Yes, I do," she teased back, "What are you going to do about it?"

Chandler pretended to ponder the question, before smiling broadly, "Buy you a dictionary! Maybe for your birthday? When is that, by the way?"

xx

Monica glanced at her watch, surprised to find that three hours had passed since Chandler and Joey had arrived. It hadn't seemed that long. In fact, the time had flown by. She was even more amazed at how much she had enjoyed herself. She and Chandler had cut all of the others out of their conversation, she was surprised how much they had to talk about, from books they liked to their jobs to shared experiences with their parents. She felt sorry for Ross, he seemed almost like a fifth wheel tagging along, or rather she was sure she would feel sorry for Ross later, when she wasn't busy talking and laughing with Chandler. Monica felt none of her previous dislike of him. In fact it was quite the opposite, she found herself staring at him dreamily throughout the night, wondering what their kids might look like. This wasn't an altogether new experience for Monica, but definitely something that she'd never expected to find herself doing with Chandler. Instead of screaming, "Hate him. Hate him," her brain had taken on the new slogan, "Date him. Date him." Chandler was sweet and charming and funny and cute and… was there a single positive adjective that didn't describe him? Maybe she had been wrong to judge him and his personality after only one meeting. So completely, totally wrong.

The restaurant was closing soon, Monica realized, feeling a distinct sense of letdown at the thought. She desperately wanted to continue the conversation she was having with Chandler. She had the sinking feeling that once the night was over, the connection that had been slowly but surely building between them would be broken. It had been so long since she hadn't felt trapped or stifled while talking to a man. She was sick of the dead-end conversations with dull, self-centred men, who had not one ounce of creativity or a sense humour. Chandler was different, somehow. He was interesting and witty, he listened when she spoke and seemed genuinely concerned about what she had to say. Monica wasn't quite sure she was willing to give that all up, but didn't really enjoy the thought of asking Chandler if he'd like to come back to her apartment in front of her brother.

Before anyone else had a chance to mention the time, Chandler announced, "Joey and I really need to get home, we don't want to keep Phoebe waiting. I know she'll be waiting for us. It's been a pleasure seeing all of you, again, though," Chandler told the group. He seemed to smile directly into Monica's eyes as he spoke, and she couldn't help but feel secretly satisfied that he seemed to have enjoyed the time they'd spent talking as much as she had.

Chandler shot a pointed look at Joey, who sighed and nodded resignedly, his eyes still focused on Rachel. Rachel appeared deep in thought.

"We don't want to keep a pregnant lady waiting, boy is she moody," Joey informed exasperatedly. "They're not even her babies, so I don't see why she gets so upset," Joey explained, not noticing the strange looks he was getting from the Gellers and Rachel.

"Phoebe's a surrogate for her half-brother and his wife," Chandler explained, feeling a need to justify Joey's odd comments. Ross, Rachel and Monica nodded in understanding, their odd expressions still present.

"We might as well head off, too, there's no point in us staying without you and Joey here," Ross said looking at Monica and Rachel for confirmation, "We'll see you guys again sometime? Maybe you can bring Phoebe?" Ross asked.

"We'd like that," Chandler said with a smile, making Monica's heart flutter. She grinned goofily in response, feeling like the stupid, giggly star struck schoolgirl that Rachel had been earlier, when meeting Joey. She scolded herself inwardly for getting so excited over a smile.

"Hey! Um, Joey, will you share a cab with me I really want to talk to you about something," Rachel offered, trying to sound casual and unconcerned, about what she wanted to talk to Joey about. Ross looked alarmed by this idea.

"It's fine with me, as long as Chandler's okay?" Joey looked pleadingly at him roommate.

"Nah, go ahead, I'm fine, I'll go with Monica," Chandler smiled, knowing his roommate wanted to spend more time with Rachel, it was clear he had some sort of feelings for her. Chandler hadn't seen him quite so involved since he'd fallen in love with Kate, one of his costars from an off-Broadway play he'd been starring in a couple years back.

"Uh, Chandler and Joey live together, right? It'd be most practical if they go together, don't you think?" Ross suggested to Rachel.

"Shut up, Ross," Rachel hissed, "You act like you own me! I want to go with Joey!" Ross looked at her dejectedly, but she either failed to notice or didn't care.

"No problem buddy," Joey said addressing what he thought Ross's concerns were, "I'll make sure she gets home safe, I promise," Joey offered.

"Thanks, man," Ross replied, meekly, not knowing what else to say to prevent Joey and Rachel from sharing a cab.

xx

"Joey… um… I wanted to talk to you, you know, about Chandler and Monica," Rachel asked timidly, as they got into a cab, a couple minutes after the others' cabs had left.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. What about them?" Joey answered distractedly, not really wanting to talk about Chandler and Monica at all.

"Don't you think they got along great?" Rachel hinted.

"I guess so, they were talking and stuff. They seem like good friends already," Joey said, his usual obliviousness present.

"No, no. Not like that. I mean, like a couple. Don't you think they would make a perfect couple?"

"A couple?" Joey questioned.

"Yeah you know, like people who go out on dates?" Rachel explained, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"Um… no I don't think so. Not a good couple at all really. Not Chandler," Joey answered, looking out the window and refusing to meet Rachel's eyes.

Stubbornly Rachel protested, "Why not? He's not seeing anyone, right? They're both single, and obviously attracted to one another. What's the problem?"

"No problem, he just wouldn't. He couldn't. He's got issues, stuff from the past. Things, y'know?" Joey offered vaguely, still staring out the window and clearly trying to dodge the subject.

"What? No!" Rachel insisted. "That's the whole reason I forced Monica out here! It was like a blind date, that she didn't know she had. She and Chandler are perfect for one another! Can't you see it? They'd be the most amazing couple. They were supposed to meet and realize that they are meant to be – it'd be so romantic." Rachel protested, her eyes glazing over dreamily.

"Look, Rach, I'm sure Monica and Chandler appreciate the effort. And I'm sure you love playing matchmaker, but it's just not gonna happen. Chandler's got Michelle to worry about. Chandler dating would be hard for Mishi to deal with." Joey's eyes widened as he realized what he had inadvertently revealed, "Damn it! Stupid! Stupid!" he berated himself under his breath.

"Michelle?" Rachel questioned with a laugh, "There's no Michelle."

"Yup, yup, you're totally right, there's no Michelle. Did I say Michelle? 'Cause there ain't any Michelles that I know," Joey overcompensated, laughing in a clearly fake tone.

Rachel's eyes narrowed and she quickly turned serious, piecing her thoughts together. "If there's no Michelle, why'd you say there was a Michelle? There's a Michelle. Who's Michelle?" Rachel asked in one breath, her words slurring together and sounding like one long word.

"Michelle? I never said Michelle," Joey lied. Laughing falsely once again, he pretended to wrack his brain for answers, "Nope, don't know any Michelles."

"Yes you do. Who's Michelle?" Rachel demanded. Joey remained silent. Rachel proceeded to poke him in his side until he whined, ready to spill.

"Okay, okay! there's a Michelle. But I can't tell you anything about her. Really," Joey answered, already feeling guilty for betraying Chandler's trust. He had promised he wouldn't say anything at dinner, even though he wasn't really sure why Chandler had asked him to, in the first place.

Undaunted, Rachel continued her inquiry, "Is she his girlfriend? His ex-wife? Fiancée? Sister? Friend? Come oonnn! Who's Michelle?"

"Sorry Rach, can't say… I proooomised!" Joey whined.

"But…"

"No. No. No," Joey said loudly, covering his ear with his hands and proceeding to hum at the top of his voice, "I can't hear you, lalala!"

"Sorry," Rachel quickly apologized to the cab driver, who was currently giving the pair quizzical looks. Returning her attention once again to Joey, "Stop being so immature and tell me who Michelle is!" Rachel pleaded.

She pulled his hands away from his ears and held his head in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes. They stared into one another's eyes for several long seconds. Before either fully registered what was happening, they were leaning toward one another, their lips meeting in a soft kiss, that was near instantaneously deepened.

Dazed and breathless, Rachel was the first to pull back. Smiling, she asked sweetly, "Ready to tell me yet?"

"Okay," Joey whispered, cupping her face softly and stroking her cheeks with his thumbs, "I'll tell you. But only if you promise never to tell Chandler or Monica you know and you, uh, you know, kiss me again?" Joey asked slyly, all thoughts of his promise to Chandler flying from his mind. He felt as if he had forgotten everything with that kiss. He wasn't sure he wanted to remember. All that he needed to know was wrapped up in Rachel's embrace.

Rachel nodded enthusiastically, her mission to find out the importance of this Michelle person was pushed to the back of her mind. She had a new mission in mind and it involved getting that second kiss…

Joey sighed, hardly aware of what he was saying, his eyes and his mind were both still transfixed on Rachel, "Michelle is…"

xx

Meanwhile, in Chandler and Monica's cab, silence had reigned for the majority of the ride. Neither knew what to say to the other. It was obvious that they were both attracted to one another, but were afraid to voice their feelings. The moment that they had stepped into the cab, Chandler had gently grasped Monica's hand in his. Monica found the contact comforting; initially hoping that the small, sweet gesture was an indication that he would take the first step and voice his feelings. She knew what she wanted to say, but was terrified of the thought that he might feel differently. With as strongly as she was feeling, she wasn't sure she could handle being rejected.

After several minutes of silence, Monica felt she had to initiate the conversation. They were only a few minutes away from his apartment. As nervous as she was, she wasn't going to pass this opportunity up. Who knew when or if they'd meet again?

"So... I had fun tonight," Monica said, attempting to trigger a conversation. She looked up into his face, trying to meet his eyes in the darkness of the cab.

"Yeah, me too, you're great to talk to. I feel like I can open up to you, y'know? I mean, I've already told you things I haven't even told Joey!" Chandler explained, grinning sheepishly. Monica fought to keep her blush from reappearing.

"Thanks, I know what you mean, though," Monica returned, "Because –um– I feel the same way… when I'm with you." It was Chandler's turn to blush. "I'd really like to see you again. Maybe we could go for coffee sometime?" Monica suggested as casually as she could muster, trying not to sound too concerned about his answer. Despite her breezy tone of voice, inside, her heart was beating rapidly. The seconds it took him to answer seemed to tick by like minutes.

Chandler stuttered incoherently for a few seconds, fumbling for an excuse, "Um, I don't know. I mean, you – I – you're Ross's little sister."

"That's not the real problem here, is it?" Monica accused, softly. "There's something else, isn't there?" she asked, feeling hurt, more at the thought that he was hiding the truth from her, than anything else. She furrowed her brow wondering what reason he could have for concealing his true feelings, but nothing came to mind. The evening had been the epitome of perfection. If Monica had been inclined to believe in such a thing, she might have deemed it love at first – well, second - sight.

Chandler remained silent. "Just seconds ago you said you felt you could trust me," Monica reminded him, "You can." She pushed closer to him, so she was cuddling into his side, "Please, Chandler." Chandler instinctively wrapped his arm around her, and sighed. Monica sighed as well, wondering if she had misread the signs of his attraction to her, and merely projected her own feelings onto him.

"It's nothing to do with you, really, Monica. You are an incredible woman; intelligent, funny, gorgeous," Chandler explained, sensing where her thoughts were at, "It's all my problems and past hang-ups. I really wouldn't want you to have to deal with me and my problems, I'm not worth it, really," he attempted to shrug nonchalantly; his body language clearly telling her that he was as miserable at the idea of it as she was. Monica was surprised that after only really knowing him less than 24 hours she could read him so well.

"I think you are," Monica stated softly, "Doesn't that mean anything?"

"It does, to me, but really, Monica, I'm more trouble than I'm worth. I don't want you to have to put up with all my, my Chandlerisms. You deserve better than me," Chandler admitted, slumping in his seat dejectedly. His hands, were no longer intertwined with Monica's, and instead were balled tightly. As much as he felt the undeniable chemistry between them, Chandler knew he was doing the right thing. For him, and for Michelle. He wasn't ready.

Monica scoffed. "Can't you let me decide what I deserve?" Monica asked, frustrated.

"Not this time... I'll –uh– see you around. We can still be friends," Chandler offered weakly, as the cab pulled into the drive of his and Joey's apartment building, "I'm so sorry, Monica." He smiled at her quickly, handing the cab driver his fare and hopping out of the cab hurriedly, before Monica could protest. He walked swiftly into the building, careful not to turn around, knowing if he saw her face, he would change his mind.

Chandler broodingly climbed the stairs leading up to his apartment, two at a time, feeling in a particularly bad mood. As much as he tried to convince himself that he wasn't ready for someone new, he wondered if maybe Monica could have been the one to change that. As much as he'd tried to deny it to himself, he felt something for her. Their chemistry couldn't have been any more tangible if there had been actual sparks flying between them.

Chandler sighed to himself. It had been nearly three years. As much as he used Michelle as an excuse to not get involved, he knew in his heart that when it came down to it, Michelle was only an excuse; a reason he gave to his friends, so he wouldn't have to put his heart on the line and risk it getting broken, again. Joey was constantly offering to set him up, but Chandler always refused, citing Michelle as the reason he wasn't ready to date. He felt immensely guilty for using her like that, but it was better than admitting he was just too terrified of having his heart broken to try again.

All he wanted at that precise moment was to slip into his warm bed, and sleep clean through the rest of the week, and avoid having to make a decision. Well that wasn't all he wanted. He wanted Monica. But who knew how Monica would react, when he told her about Michelle? No, he decided, he'd done the right thing. Being alone in his apartment with his thoughts would suffice for now. Was it so horrible to want to just relax in his home, and not have worry about his life?

He keyed into the apartment, carefully, trying his best to keep quiet. He didn't want to disturb Phoebe, whom he suspected may have fallen asleep while waiting for him or Joey to return. He glanced at his watch. 11:12. So what if he was a few minutes late, Phoebe was mostly likely asleep, anyway.

As soon as the door was closed, and Chandler had turned around to set his keys on the kitchen counter, something slammed into his legs from behind, nearly sending him to the floor.

"Daddy! Auntie Pheebs felled asleep, again!" the little girl informed her father, exasperatedly, giggling as she pointed towards the couch, where Phoebe was sprawled, protectively cradling her pregnant stomach, "Now that she's plegant, she falls asleep all the time!"

Chandler hugged the three-year-old and kissed her hair as he picked her up, looking at her sternly, "It's way past your bedtime, Michelle."

xx

_Thank you all for the reviews! :) I love reading them, even if it's just a 'please continue.' They encourage me to get working on this fic, and to post the chapters :)_

_T__o clarify after receiving some concerns, this is definitely going to be an AU. Various events from all of the seasons are going to be mentioned periodically, without following the show's time line. Also, yes, prior to this chapter, Monica and Chandler hadn't seen one another since Thanksgiving 1987, in this version of events._


	3. Chapter 3

**Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Three  
**

xx

Chandler awoke to the feeling of his bed bouncing. Blearily squinting one eye open, he peered around the semi-darkness of his bedroom, trying to locate the source of the disturbance. His eye settled upon his 3-year-old daughter, jumping up and down on the foot of his bed. He groaned inwardly; why did such a small person come with so much energy? And why did she decide it was a good idea to wake him up before noon on a weekend?

"Daddddy!" Michelle moaned, bouncing harder on the bed, in an attempt to capture his attention, "Waked up sleepyhead!"

"Mishi," he replied in his best 'I'm-tired-and-trying-to-sleep-please-leave-me-alone-and-go-back-to-sleep-for-another-five-hours' voice. "It's early... can't you go watch cartoons?"

"But Daddy, you albways watch them with me!" He smiled sheepishly at her words, it was true, spending Saturday mornings watching cartoons with Michelle was one his favourite weekend rituals. Sometimes Joey even came over from across the hall to watch with them. Not that seeing Joey in Chandler's apartment was a rare occurrence. Seeing Joey in Chandler's apartment was actually a far more common occurrence than seeing Joey in Joey's apartment, especially when there was food around. Joey always managed to pinpoint exactly when breakfast and dinner were being served and appear in the apartment seconds later. Chandler's train of thought was broken when Michelle bounced on the bed again.

"I'm just really tired, sweetie. I promise I'll watch with you next week, alright? Can't you just go get Joey to watch with you today? Just be careful when you go across the hall. He'll be awak-"

Michelle interrupted him, "Anyway, Daddy, it's not cartoon day today! Today's Toothday!"

"Tuesday?" Chandler's eyes shot open and he sat up in bed abruptly, frantically searching through the junk on his nightstand for his alarm clock. He located it underneath a pile of papers and stared at it, its bright green digits were proudly declaring that it was indeed Tuesday. Tuesday at 8:47 in the morning, to be more exact. Which meant he had exactly 13 minutes to get Michelle dressed and ready for preschool.

"Holy shit, it's Tuesday!" Upon seeing Michelle's frown, he added, "Shoot. I meant shoot, honey." He jumped out of bed as his mind processed the fact it was Tuesday. He picked Michelle up off the foot of his bed as he rushed out of the room to get her dressed.

"Mishi, if you knew it was Tuesday earlier, why didn't you tell me then? Now you're going to be late for school," Chandler told her as he pulled a purple t-shirt, with a cartoon angel design over her head, after removing her pajama top.

"I trieded, Daddy! But you kepted snoring and snoring and I bounced and bounced and bounced on your bed forever and ever and you wouldn't waked up!" Michelle explained dramatically. Chandler smirked at her antics. "You need to learneded to stop being so sleepy," she advised him.

"I'll try, sweetheart," he grinned, as he straightened the pale lavender overalls he had just finished buttoning on to her. Snatching a matching hair tie from on top of her pink dresser, he hastily pulled her hair into a pony tail. He smiled at her, gently admonishing, "Now c'mon, we're going to be late for school if we don't hurry."

He picked her up and set her on the couch in front of the television. "I'll just be a second, okay, honey? I've got to get dressed," he explaining dashing back towards his room.

A minute later he emerged from his bedroom fully dressed. He picked Michelle up off the couch and snatched her book bag from its resting place on the adjacent coffee table, all in one rushed movement. As he hurried out the door, he paused to glance at his watch. 8:54, not bad at all. They might still manage to be on time if they hurried…

xx

Both father and daughter were belted into Chandler's car and halfway to her school, when Michelle interrupted Chandler's concentration on driving as fast as he possibly could without being reckless, "Daddy, I'm hungry."

"What do you mean you're hungry?" Chandler wondered, exasperatedly, "You just had cereal for breakfast!"

"No, I didn't! You forgotted to make breakfast." Chandler cursed under his breath. Where was his head today?

Michelle was hungry. What options did he have? He could return home, but it would likely take too long to return home and get breakfast to get Michelle to school on time. He couldn't just send Michelle to class without having eaten something, either... Just then he spotted a café to the side of the road: Central Perk. It would have to be good enough to grab a quick bite to eat, he decided.

Quickly, he pulled over and parked his car, dashing to the back seat to unbuckle Michelle from her car seat. Once freed, Michelle held out her arms to him, indicating she wanted him to carry her. Sighing, Chandler reached down and picked her up, jogging hurriedly into the café once she was securely settled in his arms.

As he joined the crowd waiting to order Chandler scanned the menu looking for something Michelle would like that would also qualify as a suitable breakfast, "Mishi, do you want a chocolate chip muffin or a blueberry one?"

Michelle looked thoughtful, carefully pondering her options. "Sweetie, we don't have all day," Chandler reminded her, gently, as the peroxide blond man behind the counter looked on impatiently.

"Umm... Blueberry," Michelle declared, before wiggling to indicate she wanted to be let down. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she was running off to explore the seating area.

"Be careful, Michelle!" Chandler called after her, but Michelle was already out of earshot.

xx

Monica turned from her position on the ratty, orange crushed velvet couch at Central Perk to face the counter, positive she had heard Chandler's voice, but she couldn't spot him amongst the crowd waiting to order. She shrugged it off as wishful thinking. Of course, it hadn't surprised her that she'd heard his voice, she seemed to be imagining she was seeing him or hearing his voice on a regular basis, ever since they'd had dinner last week. A part of her still wished he would come bursting into her apartment telling her how wrong he'd been and how much he'd missed her and how he couldn't deny that she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. Then he'd look deep into her eyes and caress her cheek gently, leaning in and slowly, softly kissing her, before his deep passion for her overcame him and he'd deepen the kiss. Melting into the kiss, she would return it with equal fervour, expressing the depth of her feelings for him and then he'd–

A small girl - no more than three or four years old - interrupted Monica's reverie by stumbling over her foot as she tried to run through the small gap between the couch and the coffee table. The little girl went crashing to the ground. Upon contact with the floor, she immediately burst into tears.

Monica looked startled for a moment, giving a cursory glance around to see if the child's parents were anywhere in the near vicinity. Upon seeing no one poised to comfort the little girl, she bent down to her level to see if she was all right. The girl didn't seem to notice and continued wailing incoherently at the top of her lungs. With the loud hustle and bustle of Central Perk during it's peak hours surrounding them, no one else even seemed to take notice. Monica decided it was up to her to make sure the girl was okay.

Monica whispered in a comforting voice, "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart, are you all right? Is your Mommy or Daddy here with you?" Monica questioned, quickly scanning the girl for any signs of blood or injury. Relieved, she found nothing.

The girl quieted slightly, sniffed and rubbed her eyes, wary of this new stranger. Her Daddy had always told her never to talk to strangers and she didn't know this woman.

"My Daddy tolded me to never talk to strangers," she told Monica, turning away from her, hoping she would take the hint and go away.

"Well, your Daddy would be right, it's not usually a good idea to talk to strangers. I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt, you took quite a tumble." Monica smiled at the little girl, who had by now stopped crying all together. Seeing that the little girl was warming to her, Monica offered, "I can help you find your parents, if you'd like."

The little girl looked at her with big blue eyes and shrugged and Monica felt herself melting, "Is your Mommy or Daddy with you?" she asked a second time.

The little girl looked at Monica appraisingly. This stranger didn't seem mean at all, she decided. She might be able to help her find her Daddy, too. After some deliberation, she stood up and offered the stranger her hand.

Monica smiled as she grasped the child's hand, her maternal instincts immediately kicking in, dialed up to full blast. For some reason she felt a connection to this little girl. Pulling the little girl up off the floor, Monica helped her onto the couch. When the girl was settled on the couch her little feet dangled a good foot off the ground. Monica couldn't help but find it adorable as she began swinging them back and forth, looking like a little girl off a postcard.

"My Daddy's here," the child shrugged, "Daddy says some famnies don't gots a Mommy and a Daddy, but that don't make them less spesal," she told Monica knowledgeably.

"Your Daddy is absolutely right," Monica agreed, "All families are special." The little girl nodded and smiled, as if proud that Monica agreed with her tidbit of wisdom.

Monica looked at the little girl, realizing that she didn't even know her name. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Michelle. But everyone callses me Mishi!" she informed Monica with delight, her little pony tail bouncing happily.

"Wow, such a pretty name, for a very beautiful little girl. My name's Monica," Monica told Michelle, in return.

"Our nameses both start with 'M,'" Michelle told Monica proudly. Monica pretended to look like she was thinking for a moment, and then nodded enthusiastically, as if she had just realized. "Wow, that's true! They do! You must be really smart," she told Michelle.

Michelle shrugged modestly, and informed her, "I'm in preschool. I'm aposed to be going to school now. But Daddy's buyding muffins, 'cause he forgotted to make breakfast."

"Uh oh," Monica smiled, "You must be hungry then."

Michelle nodded and rubbed her stomach, telling Monica, "Muffins is my favite. Daddy can't cook muffins very good, though, so he albways has to buy them" she explained to Monica, crawling up onto her knees on the couch and turning around looking towards the counter, searching for her Dad amongst the crowd, but not seeing him.

"Hmm, I wonder where your Daddy went?" Monica asked Michelle, watching as she looked around, clearly looking for a glimpse of someone she recognized.

Seeing Michelle's shrug, she asked, "What's his name, then, honey?" Maybe if she knew his name, she could get Gunther to announce that his daughter was looking for him on the PA system.

Michelle looked at Monica like she was crazy, and put her tiny hands on her hips, explaining impatiently, "I tolded you! His name is Daddy."

Monica laughed, "Right. Sorry. I forgot."

So much for that idea.

xx

Chandler finished purchasing Michelle's blueberry muffin and a coffee for himself, handing over a few bills to the peroxide-blond man behind the counter. He shivered. That guy gave him the creeps. Chandler had never been one to believe in Phoebe's new-age aromatherapy aura crap, but even he had to admit that guy had an odd, insane aura about him that just gave him the creeps.

Chandler grabbed some napkins from the dispenser, knowing that within minutes of receiving her muffin, Michelle would have a blueberry covered face and hands. He turned to go find Michelle who had wandered off exploring the new area. She never went far, but this time Chandler couldn't locate her right away and it frightened him.

What if she'd been kidnapped? It'd be completely his fault for leaving his 3-year-old daughter unattended while he did what? Bought a muffin? Could he have been any more pathetic? In that moment, he certainly didn't think so. Chandler always knew he had a problem handling responsibility, but once Michelle came along, his lack of commitment and responsibility issues had faded to the background and he had devoted himself to making sure his daughter was happy and well taken care of. And until now, he'd done pretty damn well, if he did say so himself. Sure he had a little help from his friends, but they we're glad to help and they loved Michelle just as much as she loved them.

Chandler shook his head. Why was he acting like she'd already been kidnapped? He had probably just not spotted her the first time he'd scanned the restaurant. It was a lot larger than he'd originally thought. Michelle could be hiding anywhere. He scanned quickly again, still not spotting her. He fought to keep his panic down and think logically.

'The bathrooms!' he thought triumphantly.

He looked around for a sign for the restrooms, hastily running in the direction the neon sign indicated, when he located one. Quickly entering the men's room, he bent over looking under all the stalls for Michelle's little feet. No such luck. He exited the men's room and hesitantly knocked on women's bathroom door, calling out Michelle's name. Michelle usually didn't go into the women's bathroom, because she was so used to going into the men's room with him, but Chandler figured it was as good as any place he could look. Receiving no answer, Chandler turned back to the main seating area of the restaurant.

He was just about to start looking under tables for her when he spotted her sitting on the orange couch in the centre of the coffee house. He was about to call out to her when he noticed she was sitting talking to some dark-haired woman. A fierce protectiveness for his daughter kicking in, he stamped towards them, prepared to tell whoever this woman was off.

Michelle's happy face as he ran towards her, stopped him; he could only express relief that she was okay, "Michelle, there you are! Thank God, sweetheart! Please, please don't run off like that again! You scared Daddy!" he told her as he bent down to her level and pulled her into his arms, too preoccupied and deliriously happy that Michelle was okay and (for the most part) unharmed to care about the stranger. Quickly handing her her breakfast, he announced, "Here's your muffin, sweetie. We've gotta get go-"

Michelle interrupted, grabbing Monica's hand again and jumping excitedly, "Daddy! This is Monica! She was going to helped me finded you." Monica? Odd coincidence, Chandler thought, as he stared at his daughter's smiling face, that Mishi should run into a woman with the same name as the woman that Chandler had had to force from his mind all week, if he wanted to get anything at all productive done. He shoved the thought from his mind and focused on thanking this Monica instead. Chandler looked up towards her, his gratefulness evident. "Thank you very much, Mon–," he trailed off as his eyes met Monica's, and then widened in shock as he recognized her.

Maybe it wasn't so much a coincidence after all?

xx

I'm really glad everyone seems to be enjoying this so far :) I hope you all love Michelle as much as I do. She is so much fun to write. Working on this, period, has been a bright spot, recently, actually, since I've managed to catch a bad cold and been dumped with work over the long weekend (it's Thanksgiving here in Canada).

Anyway, thank you all for the reviews! They really do make my day. I hope you'll continue to enjoy and let me know what you think!

More Mondler and Joey/Rachel is on the horizon, I promise :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Four  
**

xx

"Daddy? Oh my God, you- you're a daddy? Chandler?" Monica stared at him in disbelief. His eyes revealed the truth. After their initial eye contact, he refused to look directly at her, instead focusing his eyes on a point on the floor near his feet.

"You are, aren't you?" Monica exclaimed, "You – you have a daughter. Oh my God!" Her eyes flew to Michelle who was bouncing on the orange sofa and paying little attention to the discussion between her and Chandler, "_This_ is your daughter?" Chandler's head snapped up to eye level and his eyes darkened protectively.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," Monica stuttered apologetically, "I - It's just… you have a daughter. I can't believe you have a daughter. I can't believe you didn't tell me you had a daughter!"

"Well, what did you expect me to say? Oh, um yeah, I really like you, Monica, but by the way… I – I have a daughter named Michelle. Wanna meet her? Are you seriously trying to tell me that you wouldn't have run from me as fast as your feet could carry you? You wouldn't have even bothered to give me a second glance!"

"Well – I – no… well, I mean, maybe," Monica faltered, "I don't know," she eventually finished softly.

Chandler huffed, "Well, there you go."

"You don't have any reason to act like this is my fault! You were the one who ended it, if I remember correctly!" Monica, snipped, glaring at him.

"Ended it! We didn't have anything to end in the first place!"

"Well, there _you_ go," Monica retorted.

"Look, I don't want us to fight about what we may or may not have had. It's just… I liked you and I was - I was scared. Scared of what you'd think. Of what you'd say about Michelle," He bit his lip, "It was a stupid thing to do… a really, really stupid thing to do, okay?"

"Chandler… I wouldn't ha-" Monica began, but was interrupted by Chandler.

"Monica, um, I really do want to talk about this, but Michelle… I don't feel comfortable talking about this in front of my daughter and she's already late for preschool. I –um- need to drop her off. We're already over fifteen minutes late," he mumbled glancing at his watch and cursing, "Maybe we can talk later… after I drop Mishi off?" he asked her hopefully, trying not to sound as desperate for her to agree as he felt. He was already moving to pick up Michelle, who was still bouncing cheerfully on the couch and eating the muffin her father had given her while talking to the people sitting on the chairs beside the couch, seemingly forgetting her 'no talking to strangers' rule under the observation of her father.

"I think I'd like that," Monica told him, smiling slightly at him as he moved blindly backwards in the general direction of the door, so he could look at her as she spoke. Michelle, still in his arms, waved at Monica with a blueberry covered hand.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes, okay? We can talk then," Chandler informed Monica. He turned to face the door, grinning, and walked right into the post situated by the table nearest to the door. Monica ran to his side, barely able to keep herself from laughing at his clumsiness. Fortunately, Michelle was fine, as Chandler as been holding her on the opposite side to that which he knocked into the pole; only Chandler seemed to be harmed.

"Are you okay?" Monica asked him, taking Michelle from his grip, so he could check his forehead for injuries. Michelle immediately began to twirl Monica's hair, "You have pretty hair."

"Thank you," Monica smiled at the little girl, feeling slightly guilty. How could she have ever hated her, even for a split second? "You've got pretty hair, too! Hey! Maybe, sometime I could show you how to do french braids."

"Really? Daddy doesn't knowed how!"

"Yeah? Well, then, maybe I could teach him, too," Monica smiled slightly.

"Hey, now, you guys don't need to worry about me," Chandler interrupted their conversation, sarcastically, "I'm fine. Hairstyling is much more important than your own father, right?" Chandler asked Michelle, teasingly. She giggled and buried her head against Monica's shoulder nodding. Chandler tickled her causing her to laugh harder.

"Are you really okay?" Monica asked sincerely. Chandler gingerly put his hand to his forehead, again, checking for blood. Relieved, he found none.

"Yeah I'm fine, I think my pride's just a little bruised, though," he smiled at her, "Okay, since we won't be needing to make a stop over at the emergency room, I guess we'll be on our way. I'll be back in twenty minutes," Chandler told Monica, spontaneously kissing her cheek and taking Michelle from her arms. Michelle enthusiastically waved goodbye to Monica as they left.

Monica watched them depart with a half-smile on her face. She turned around and sunk down into the couch, giving herself a minute to contemplate the whirlwind of information that had been thrown at her in the space of less than ten minutes.

Chandler had a daughter.

She was the cutest little girl Monica had ever seen, but… there were just so many 'but's. Why did everything revolving around her romantic life have to be so complicated? The knowledge that Chandler had a daughter was both good and bad news simultaneously. The fact that Chandler's big issue... his reason for thinking he shouldn't to be with Monica was that he had a daughter, well, that had nothing to do with his feelings for her. He could very well feel the way she did about him. She was beginning to understand that she still did feel the same way about him, despite Michelle. He was so cute with her. Anyone could tell he was a wonderful father to her. Monica had spent barely ten minutes with the pair and could already tell how much they loved each other.

Still… something didn't seem right.

Chandler was a single parent. He has other things to think about other than a relationship she reminded herself. That idea got Monica wondering about Michelle's mother. Michelle was clearly Chandler's biological child. They just looked too much alike for them not to be related. So where was Michelle's mother? And why wasn't she raising Michelle with Chandler?

A heart-stopping thought dawned on Monica. What if Chandler wasn't a single parent? What if all the things she'd assumed to be true, were just... assumptions. She suddenly felt a deep jealousy burning within her. Was Michelle's mother still her mother and Chandler's girlfriend… or worse... his wife? She scanned her brain, trying to remember something Chandler might have mentioned that'd give her a clue. Suddenly a thought clicked.

Phoebe.

He'd mentioned Phoebe many times, throughout the course of their dinner a week ago. How could she have been so blind? Had she been too busy developing feelings for him to realize he was married? Any feelings he had expressed for her, were obviously nothing more than him trying to let her down gently. The more she thought about it the more it made sense. Phoebe was always around! Everything Chandler did seemed to include Phoebe, all his anecdotes seemed to involve her. Phoebe had been watching Michelle the night Chandler and Joey had had dinner with her, Rachel and Ross. Who better to watch Michelle than her mother, while her father caught up with old friends?

Monica was startled out of her jealous trance when Rachel bounded into the coffeehouse and plopped down next to her on the couch, all smiles.

"What's up, Mon? You look…" she paused, "intense."

"Yeah," Monica told her absently, "I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing…" Monica said distractedly, "Chandler just stopped by a little while ago, guess I was thinking about that."

"That? Or him?" Rachel joked, trying to appear light-hearted, referring to the almost post-breakup daze that Monica seemed to have been caught up in for the previous week, ever since the night they'd all had dinner. Rachel knew Monica was crazy over him, and after learning from Joey details of Chandler's past, was more determined than ever to get them together.

Monica sighed. "Some of both, I guess."

"I'm sorry, honey," Rachel told her consolingly, rubbing her back.

Monica looked up at her questioningly. "What are you sorry for? You don't even know what happened, yet."

"I can just tell," she informed Monica, "I mean come on, look at you, obviously something not so good happened."

"Jeez thanks, Rach. I know I can always count on you to be complementary," Monica told her, sarcastically.

"Is this about Michelle? It is, isn't it?"

Monica gasped. "How do you know about Michelle?"

"Joey," Rachel told her, smiling at the thought of her boyfriend. Their kiss in the cab a week prior had led them to confront their feelings for one another and had successfully blossomed into a relationship.

"You knew about Michelle and you didn't tell me! I can't believe you!" Monica hit Rachel on the arm, in her frustration.

"Oww! C'mon Mon, he made me promise not to tell!" Rachel defended herself, rubbing her arm.

Monica glared at her. "That's never stopped you before!"

"Hey!" Rachel replied, sheepishly, "I told you I was sorry about that!"

"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly the most fun I've ever had, explaining to Ross why _my_ underwear were hanging out there on the telephone pole. You know he was _this_ close to telling Mom and Dad? I had to bribe him with food for a month to get him to not tell them!" She said, resentfully, "I can't believe I had to bribe my 27-year-old brother not to rat me out to Mom and Dad!"

"He was my boyfriend back then. I told him everything! Haven't you ever heard it's not good to keep secrets from your significant other? Honesty is the root of a good relationship. Obviously Ross knows nothing about that!" Rachel explained, with disgust.

"Rach? Haven't we discussed this enough? Ross cheated on you. You were not on a break. What he did was evil and you're the innocent victim. I know. Everyone in the coffeehouse knows. And I'm beginning to think it's only a matter of time before everyone in Manhattan knows. Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?"

Rachel ignored Monica. "I know! He was hiding her behind his apartment door, when I was kissing him in his apartment! I mean he cheated on me, and then he just kissed me with her still in his apartment like nothing had happened! Can you believe it?" Rachel shook her head disbelievingly.

"Y'know, I really can't. And I couldn't believe it the other eight hundred and ninety-two times you told me, either."

"Hey! It was not that many!"

"Pretty close!" Monica informed her. Rachel huffed. "Getting back to our current situation… how come you didn't tell me what you knew?"

"I wanted to… but everyone thinks I'm such a bad secret keeper! I'm not!" Rachel defended herself, "I only told Ross because he was my boyfriend."

"I'm your best friend," Monica shot back, "you have to tell me everything too!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I really, really was going to tell you that night, but then before I could, you started on about Chandler! You were gushing about how sweet he was and every, little, tiny thing he did throughout the course of the night. It was a good half an hour before I could even get a word in edgewise. And then you just kept going on and on, I didn't have the heart to tell you, because you seemed so happy, thinking you could change his mind and make him see that you were 'meant' for each other. You even made that 'we're destined to be together, he's the one' speech I haven't heard since you were dating Richard! I didn't want to be the cause of you being upset!"

Monica smiled, a warmth returning to her voice, "You didn't want me to be upset?"

"Nope, of course not, Mon! I hate seeing you hurt, you're like one of my sisters. I know you'd do the same thing for me."

"Hey… Rach," Monica asked, abruptly changing the topic, "Did, um, did Joey happen to mention, uh, Phoebe?"

"What Phoebe? You mean that girl he and Chandler hang out with? No, not really..."

"Ugh, nevermind, then," Monica said distractedly. She suddenly froze, spotting Chandler entering the coffee shop over Rachel's shoulder. "Shhhh, Rach! Remember to be cool! Be calm and casual. Be breezy!" Rachel chuckled at Monica's obsessive antics. Monica was attempting to paste a 'casual breezy' expression on her face and failing miserably. Rachel smiled to herself, wondering if Chandler knew what he was setting himself up for.

Chandler smiled uncomfortably at Rachel, "Hi, Rachel."

"Hey Chandler! What's up? It's just great seeing you again. Unfortunately, I have to go um, make my bed, so I'll see you guys later."

"Is she okay?" Chandler asked Monica quietly, as Rachel disappeared out the door, "She seemed… weird just now."

Monica ignored the question. "I know all about Phoebe!" she informed Chandler, triumphantly.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Chandler." Monica told him with a glare.

Genuinely confused, Chandler told her, "Um, what? You've lost me, here."

"I know that Phoebe is Michelle's mother!" Monica told Chandler, unable to keep the intense jealousy out of her voice.

"You know, do you?"

"I know that you're married and you love her so much more than you've ever loved anyone before and that you think she's your soulmate. I also know that Phoebe is pregnant again, and you want a boy this time. You made up that ridiculous surrogate story so we wouldn't find out about you two. I mean, c'mon, couldn't you have thought of something better than that?" Monica demanded.

Chandler stared at her softly, leaning forward and taking her hands in his, "Are you crazy?"

Monica looked taken aback. "What?"

"Sounds like you've woven yourself quite there little story there. I don't think I even want to know what gave you that crazy idea. Phoebe and I are not married. I love her, she's one of my best friends, but she's certainly not my soulmate. She is most definitely not Michelle's mother. And as hard as it is to believe, Phoebe is indeed carrying triplets for her 19-year-old half-brother and his 42-year-old wife."

As Chandler leaned closer to her, she noticed a thin gold chain hanging around his neck. Something about it was calling out to her, though she couldn't pinpoint why. Before he had a chance to realize what she was doing, she'd tugged gently on the necklace, pulling it from underneath his shirt. She stared at it silently for a few moments.

"Chandler what's this?" Monica asked, twirling the object gently in her fingers.

He gulped in a breath of air, swallowing nervously and told her quietly, "Um. Well, that would, uh that would be my wedding ring."

xx

_Here's the last of the old chapters! Next up new material, yay! I have a couple of the new chapters written, so hopefully it won't be long before you see them. I'm hoping they blend seamlessly, but I'm still a little wary of posting them, since it has been so long :P I also had a couple of Mondler fluff/drama oneshots in the works, but since there doesn't seem to be much interest based on the one already posted, I think I'll forgo those and concentrate on this series.  
_

_This chapter is a bit short and fillerish, I know, but more good stuff, both for Mondler and Rachel/Joey is coming up :D The next chapter will be huge, to make up for it :P  
_

_As always, please review :) I've still got that cold and am just feeling lazy and generally crappy so I could use some inspiration to get me motivated :)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Listen to Your Heart - Chapter Five  
**

xx

"You're married! I can't believe you didn't tell me that, either!" Monica huffed, shocked. Even though less than ten minutes ago she'd managed to convince herself that Chandler was married to Phoebe, there was a small part of her that knew she was being ridiculous and looking for someone to blame. Phoebe was an easy target. When Chandler had pointed out how ridiculous she was being, she'd calmed considerably, and worse, had allowed herself to hope that there was a chance for 'them.' Now that hope was being cruelly torn away, once again.

"How many more huge secrets do you have?! How could we have talked for four damn hours last week without you mentioning any of this! How can you be married?! What about us?" Her face was set in a stony, completely unreadable expression, and it unsettled Chandler. Now that he was face to face with her, he was realizing how much he cared for her, and would be devastated if she flat out rejected him.

Chandler took a deep breath, trying to fight the impending sting of tears, "Look, Monica. I'm really sorry I didn't tell you any of this stuff. Really, I am. I know I've done everything to prove the opposite, but I do care about you."

Monica's expression softened marginally. "I want to believe you, Chandler. I do. But part of me can't help but wonder… are you only saying that because I found out? Would you have bothered to say anything if we hadn't bumped into one another today?"

Chandler's eyes met Monica's briefly before he lost his nerve and looked down at his hands, "I don't know. I want to say, yes, I would have, but that would have been lying. And I don't want to lie anymore. Especially to you. You deserve the truth."

Monica smiled very slightly. "Thank you. Tell me," she implored, "Where's your wife? Is she Michelle's mother? Why do you wear your ring around your neck and not your finger?"

Chandler forced a tiny smile in response to Monica's, although inside he felt a mess. His stomach was turning nervously and his mind was swirling, hardly allowing him an opportunity to focus on one thought before it moved on to the next. "If you want complete honesty, I'll give it to you, I promise. I'm done lying. I just don't feel comfortable talking about this in the middle of a crowded coffeehouse." He looked around anxiously, as if the patrons of Central Perk were secretly listening in on their conversation. "Maybe we could go back to my apartment?" he offered.

Monica smiled properly for the first time since she'd discovered his ring. "Okay," she looked at him, "but my apartment is right upstairs, we could go there, instead, if you want. It's a little closer."

"Okay," Chandler agreed, a ghost of a smile on his face; he was too nervous to smile properly, "I'd like that."

Slowly timidly, as if afraid he might refuse her, Monica offered him her hand. Looking up at her slowly, hopefully, he placed his hand in hers and allowed her to lead him upstairs.

The walk to her apartment was completed in total silence. It wasn't all that uncomfortable, especially given the strange situation. They continued to clasp one another's hands loosely the entire trip, as if allowing the other the opportunity to let go, if they wanted. Neither did.

If was only when they finally reached the forest green door of apartment number 20, that Monica finally let go of his hand to dig out her keys from her pocket.

After unlocking the door, Monica ushered Chandler into the apartment, pleased to find that it was empty. After leaving the coffeehouse Rachel had clearly retreated elsewhere. Chandler took a brief moment to look around, before complimenting her apartment, "You've got a great apartment. It's huge!"

Monica thanked him, not really in the mood for polite pleasantries. She wanted answers. She led Chandler towards the overstuffed white couch that was the centerpiece of her living room, instructing him to take a seat, before offering politely, "Would you like something to drink? I could make some coffee if you'd like?"

Chandler didn't respond, and only sat stoically in his seat, staring off into space as if he were looking into another dimension entirely. Monica couldn't help but feel a tug on her heartstrings seeing him look so miserable, and found she was more curious than ever for him to spill the situation with his wife.

The second he'd sat down, Chandler's emotions had all rushed at him at once. He sat frozen, faced with the reality that he was going to have to confront all his issues, properly, for the first time in nearly three years. The thought had sent him into a mild panic. Whenever his friends had broached the topic, a simple 'I don't want to talk about it' had always made them back off. As much as he hated their sympathetic smiles, at least they'd felt sorry enough for him to leave him to his miserable thoughts in peace. How could he explain to them the how and why of what he was feeling, when he wasn't even sure himself? He knew Monica was going to demand certain answers. He'd witnessed her fiery character during their heart to heart the previous week, and knew she'd stubbornly settle for nothing less. The thought of confronting those memories scared the hell out of him.

Monica called Chandler's name, quietly. Receiving no response, she reached towards him and softly touched his hand, stroking the back of it gently; still no response. Though she knew it was a stupid thing to be thinking about in that moment, Monica could help but think his skin was incredibly soft. She berated herself for thinking that way about a married man. He _was_ still married, if only technically, wasn't he? Why else would he still keep his ring?

Even, more tentatively than before, Monica slid her hand up to his shoulder, gently stroking it through the thin material of his button-up shirt, in an attempt to rouse him from his obviously intense reverie. Still no response.

Glancing around her apartment, as if there may be spies planted among the books on the shelves, or hidden behind the curtains, Monica slowly dragged her hand, up across his shoulder, and neck, until she was cupping his cheek, and in doing so, turning his face gently towards her. The feel of his cheek beneath her fingers was electric, the roughness of his stubble contrasting pleasantly against the softness of her fingertips.

She almost found herself leaning towards him, though whether it was out of compassion for his current state, or a leftover sense of desperation as a result of the feelings she had developed over dinner earlier in the week, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she'd never felt more connected to a person in her life… and all she was doing was touching his cheek. The thought scared the hell out of her. More than anything else, what terrified her was the thought that she wouldn't be allowed to feel like this again. If he was married, he was forbidden territory. She knew she wouldn't allow herself to be involved with a married man, no matter the circumstances. That would only equal hurt for both of them.

Before she could allow herself to ponder the situation any more, Chandler seemed to suddenly jolt out of his thoughts, the glazed-over look leaving his eyes. The sadness and confusion that replaced it was hardly an improvement and it sent a jolt straight to her heart. She continued to stroke his cheek, whispering words of comfort.

After a few moments Chandler seemed to regain control of himself and his emotions. Looking more than a little upset with himself, he pulled her into a friendly hug. "I'm so, sorry, Monica. I know you probably don't want an emotional, weepy basket case in your apartment. I'll just let myself, out. Thanks for trying, though," he sighed.

Monica stopped him, flinging her legs across his, so he couldn't stand up. "Look," she said firmly, "I'm not sure what's going on, here, but I intend to find out. It has something to do with your wife and daughter. So start spilling." Chandler looked hesitant.

Sensing that he wasn't about to, Monica decided to take matters into her own hands. "Did she die?" she questioned, compassionately, trying to get him to open up.

Chandler's head shot up, from where he'd been staring at his feet. Monica barely heard the whispered, "No." His head quickly dropped back down.

Monica looked at him expectantly, hoping that he'd sense her openness and willingness to help him in any way she could. Chandler could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head, and by some magnetic force more powerful than him, found his eyes drawn to hers.

Blue met blue, and Chandler could slowly but surely feel his internal wall breaking down.

Monica seemed to sense his crumbling resistance. From her position, almost on her lap, Monica wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat for a moment, before whispering, "Please, tell me what happened. Please. I want to help. _Please_."

Just the feel of Monica wrapped around him, brought tremendous comfort to Chandler. Fighting against his conscience, after a minute, he finally mumbled, "She left me."

Monica felt enormous hatred, for this nameless woman bubbling up in her soul. How could a woman, any woman, leave her husband and little daughter? Especially if those in question were Chandler and Michelle. They were so genuine and wonderfully weird and well, as close to perfection as Monica could imagine two people being. What woman would want to give all that up? Underneath that hatred, though, Monica was reluctant to admit, more than anything else, what she felt was relief. Relief that Chandler wasn't married now and that she was free to feel how she liked about him without feeling guilty. It was like a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders. She fought away her smile and focused on Chandler.

Staring imploring into his eyes, she begged, "Tell me what happened."

Chandler pulled her tighter against him, wrapping his arms around her and allowing himself to take comfort in her, speaking properly for the first time since he'd tried to leave. His voice was clear and strong, but with a sad lilt to it. "God Monica, you're making this seem so easy. You have no idea how long I've been dreading this… talking about this. I've never really talked to anyone about it before," he admitted shyly.

"Your wife left you and you've never talked to anyone about it? Not even Joey?" she asked, incredulously.

Chandler shook his head. "No. I mean, they – Joey, and Phoebe, eventually – wanted me to. I always avoided the subject, because I didn't want everyone giving me those pitying looks. Well that and I didn't want to face the reality of it. How pathetic is that?"

"It's not pathetic," Monica smiled, stroking his hair maternally, "It's human. Now tell me what happened." The feel of her hand running steadily through his hair in a maternal way calmed Chandler considerably. The well of tears, that had become second nature at the thought of his destroyed marriage wasn't nearly as strong as usual.

"I don't even know where to start," he mulled sadly.

"Start wherever you want to. Tell me about the day you met her. The day you got married. The day Michelle was born." A moment later she added, hesitantly, "The day she left you." The second the words were out of her mouth, she knew by the expression on his face that was exactly where he was going to start.

She felt a surge of pride, at his ability to face his fears head on, as he began to recount his story.

Seeing that he was beginning to stare off into space as he talked, Monica hugged him tighter, placing a hand on the back of his neck, the skin on skin contact serving as a small reminder that she was here for him, willing to comfort, as well as listen.

"I remember it was a Friday," he reminisced, an almost nostalgic quality to his voice. "A warm sunny day, even for LA. I was happy; I'd just finished work and there was nothing standing between me and a weekend with my family. Michelle was 10 months old and we'd been planning to take her to the park that evening, because she was just starting to get the hang of walking…"

_--"Baby, are you home?" Chandler called out, as he entered the apartment, he shared with his wife, and their daughter. He was unable to wipe the grin off his face. He had the entire weekend free to spend with the two people he loved most in the world._

_Getting no response, he wandered into the bedroom he shared with his wife, then Michelle's in search of either of the two primary women in his life. Finding neither, he frowned, wondering where they could be. His wife wasn't the kind to change their plans without informing him. And they had both been looking forward to spending this weekend together, as a family._

_He walked towards the phone, deciding to call Joey. If Angie hadn't told him where she was going, then she must have told Joey, who had simply forgotten to tell him. Chandler shook his head at the thought of his scatterbrained former-roommate._

_Approaching the phone, he noticed the message light was blinking. More out of habit than anything else, he clicked the play button, listening absently to the robotic voice._

"_Mr. or Mrs. Bing?" the answering machine rattled off, "This is Joyce Langdon from Sunnyview Daycare. Michelle is currently still with us, though according to our records, she was supposed to be picked up at 3 this afternoon. We've attempted to contact both Joey and Gloria Tribbiani, her emergency contacts, but neither have picked up. Call us as soon as possible to alert us of the situation, thanks!"_

_Chandler looked panicked, and quickly snatched the handset off the base, quickly punching in the daycare centre's number. Where was his wife? And why hadn't she picked up Michelle like she was supposed to?_

"_Hello?" the receptionist answered, lazily._

"_Hello!" Chandler said quickly, zooming past pleasantries, "This is Chandler Bing. Father of Michelle Bing? Is my daughter still with you?" he asked worry creeping into his voice._

"_Hold on, sir. Let me check," came the measured reply. The minute it took her to find the information seemed like an eternity, serving only to intensify Chandler's panic for both his wife and daughter. At least Michelle would be happy and unlikely to notice the time, but Angie-_

_His thoughts were interrupted as the receptionist returned to the line. "Hello? Mr. Bing? Our records show that a Mr. Joey Tribbiani, picked up Michelle 45 minutes ago, after we sent out several calls to her emergency contacts, when Mrs. Bing failed to pick her up at the designated time." Chandler breathed a sigh of relief. Michelle was in good hands. But that still didn't explain where his wife was._

_Needing to check that Joey really did have his daughter, and figuring that he would also be his best bet for answers, Chandler quickly dialed the digits he knew from memory._

"_Hey Joe!" Chandler spouted, as soon as Joey answered his cell. "What's going on? Where are you? Is Michelle with you? Where's Angie?" he said, his questions all running together in his desperation for answers._

"_Chandler," Joey said seriously, his grave, choked voice immediately alerting Chandler that something was wrong. Joey was an unusually upbeat person, to find him this upset was extremely unusual. "Michelle's fine, she's here with me. But I have something to tell you. Maybe you should sit down for this."_

"_Joey," Chandler demanded, "don't beat around the bush. Tell me what's going on! I come home to an empty apartment and a message telling me my daughter was never picked up from daycare! I call the daycare and find out she's with you! I want to know what's going on! Is Angie hurt?"_

"_She's gone, Chandler."_

_Chandler felt his blood run cold, and was quick to counter, "What do you mean 'gone'? I saw her this morning!"_

"_She left," Joey explained quietly, "She called Ma and Pa an hour ago and told them that she's gone off to Chicago, and that we shouldn't follow her. She said she couldn't stay here any longer. She felt suffocated."_

"_She wouldn't do that! Tell me that this is a cruel joke?" Chandler begged, desperate for an explanation._

"_I'm so sorry, buddy. Look, didn't she leave a note, or something?" Chandler looked around desperately. Nothing but Michelle's doodles pinned to the fridge. Nothing on the table or counters._

_He raced to the bedroom, surely she had to have left him something. She wouldn't leave without saying goodbye._

_Nothing on the nightstand or the bed, either._

_It finally hit him that his wife had left him and his baby daughter, with not even a note to say good bye. His eyes stung with tears, and the phone slipped from his hand, as he crumpled to the floor of his bedroom._

"I sobbed harder than Michelle, for the entire week after she left," Chandler admitted quietly. "You know there's a problem when your 10-month-old has to comfort you."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Monica said, cuddling him close to her. 'What a bitch!' she thought, 'who leaves their baby and husband without even saying goodbye!?' Rephrasing her thoughts, worried her choice of language might upset him she stated cautiously, "I can't believe that that woman didn't even say goodbye! She seriously never called or anything?"

Chandler looked downcast, but answered earnestly, "No nothing. I haven't heard from her since the morning she left. Not even a birthday card for Michelle. Can you believe that? Not even acknowledging her own daughter? Michelle's the one who's going to suffer the most here, not having a mother."

Monica shook her head violently. She stared directly into Chandler's eyes, "You and Michelle both deserved better than that. Michelle doesn't need a mother who could do that to her in the first place," she stated fiercely.

Chandler shrugged. "For the first year she was gone, I didn't even care what she'd done. I just wanted her back so badly. I knew I could forgive her if she'd just come back…" he trailed off wistfully.

"And now?" Monica asked hesitantly.

"I don't know. I just don't know. I want to forgive her, because she's Michelle's mother and I loved her once. But, at the same time, I don't know if I can forgive her for just walking out and not making an effort to contact us in nearly 3 years. If she cared about us that little… why should we care about her?"

Monica nodded and stroked his hair, "Hey… you said you were living in LA… how'd you end up back in New York?" When his eyes clouded over, and she heard him sniffle, Monica wondered if she had asked the wrong question.

"It's a bit of a long story," Chandler admitted.

Monica looked at him soothingly, "I have time. I was serious when I said I want to hear everything. I want you to be able to talk to me," she paused, "Do you know how unbelievably special it makes me feel to think that I'm the first one you've shared this with? I mean, we hardly know one another, but here you are spilling your life story to me!"

"I know," his voice briefly took on a teasing lilt, "Joe and Pheebs are gonna be so jealous. They've been trying to get me to do this for years," his voice returned to the slightly sad, serious tone it had before, admitting, "You swoop in like magic, and everything's just pouring out. It's so easy. Like I said in the cab that night," he mentioned, briefly wondering if he should bring up the location where he'd first shot her down, and risk ruining the mood they'd managed to cultivate, "I feel like I can tell you anything."

"You can. Tell me about leaving LA," she said, squeezing his hand, "I don't care how long the story is."

He nodded. "It all started when I received a package in the mail…"

_--A sharp knock at his apartment door called Chandler's attention away from where he'd been playing with blocks with his 18-month-old daughter on his living room floor. Leaving Michelle to the brightly coloured blocks, he stood up, and headed for the door, wondering who it could be. The only visitors he usually entertained were Joey and his parents, and they were comfortable enough to just walk straight in without knocking. He briefly wondered if it may be Angie returning. He felt his heart rate speed up, and his stomach twist as he did the same to the doorknob. What would he say to her?_

_He swung open the door to reveal a short balding man, in a postal worker's uniform, holding a large manila envelope. The man nodded shortly, asking, "Chandler Bing?"_

_Chandler nodded and managed a choked, "Yes."_

_The man smiled at him curtly, "I'm here to serve you legal documents." Chandler looked confused. Legal documents? He couldn't remember getting into any trouble with the law._

_Shrugging, he signed next to the X's the man indicated on the clipboard he held. He'd find out soon enough._

_The man thanked him politely and handed him the package, before retreating down the hallway._

_Chandler looked at the package curiously as he shut the door behind him. Checking quickly to make sure Michelle was still playing contentedly with her blocks, he turned to sit at the kitchen table, and ripped the package open._

_Squinting at the papers inside, trying to determine what they were for, Chandler felt his blood run cold, as he realized what they were. They slipped from his hands, fluttering messily to the floor._

_Divorce papers._

_Even though Chandler had known his marriage was all but over, this was not something he'd been expecting. He knew it was ridiculous, and would never tell anyone, but he still clung to the secret hope that Angie would return one day, and tell him she'd made a huge mistake, and that they could fix their marriage._

_He would not cry, he would not cry, he would not cry. Maybe if he repeated it enough, he would believe it? Feeling suddenly angry at Angie for making him feel this way he pounded a fist on the wooden kitchen table. How could she do this to him? Didn't she know they were supposed to be soulmates?_

_Hearing the banging noise, Michelle glanced up. Seeing the tear tracks on her father's face, she asked, "Da sad? Hug?"_

_Chandler shook his head and quickly wiped the tears from his face. He gave her the most genuine smile he could muster, before lying, "No, baby, I have my Mishi, why would I be sad?" He tickled her foot and she giggled, squirming in his arms. "I think it's your bedtime, Mishi," he explained, as he carried her to her room to get her ready for bed._

_Michelle looked upset, "No! Missy no tired!" A brief smile flitted across Chandler's face at her mispronunciation of her name. A second later, Michelle yawned, cuddling against her father sleepily. Chandler knew, despite her arguments, she was too tired to put up much of a fight._

_Twenty minutes later, Michelle was tucked in bed, clutching a stuffed turtle her mother had given her. It was likely that stupid stuffed turtle was the last thing her mother would ever give her, Chandler thought bitterly._

_Watching his daughter sleep, he felt a sudden rush of hate for Angie. How could she do this to them? They were doing okay, he supposed. Well Michelle was. He was a wreck, if he admitted the truth to himself. Glancing one last time at Michelle, he made a quick decision, and deciding to act on it before he changed his mind, he slipped out of her room, making sure to flip on her nightlight before he left._

_He stalked over to the phone – the very same phone that Joey had told him Angie had left him on, he thought angrily – and quickly punched in Joey's number._

"_Joe?" he asked, as soon as his best friend answered, "I've made a decision."_

_Joey sounded perplexed. "What kind of decision?"_

_Chandler took a deep breath, his voice rushed, as he admitted, "I'm leaving LA. I can't stay here any more. It's stifling. This apartment, this whole goddamn city reminds me of Angie and I can't stand it anymore. I'm going back to New York."_

_Joey sounded more confused than before, "What brought this on? Are you feeling okay?"_

_Slightly irritated, Chandler snapped. "I'm fucking fabulous. My wife just sent me divorce papers. The pieces of my life are all just falling into place," he spouted sarcastically, adding seriously a second later, "I just can't stay anymore. There's no reason left to hope she might ever come back. I need to get away and start fresh."_

"_You're right," Joey admitted. After a pause, he added, "But, if you're leaving, I'm coming, too."_

_Chandler was shocked, "What! Joey! I can't let you do that! You need to be here, for your acting career! And your parents live here!"_

"_Chandler," Joey suggested reasonably, "My acting career here sucks! You mean so much more to me than acting. You're my brother. Besides there's a film industry in New York, too. As for leaving my parents… most of my sisters are in Queens, where we all grew up." Joey was silent for a second, "Besides… you know that hurt you feel over Angie? I feel it, too. You know how close me and Angie were. It'd be nice for me to start over, too. Besides, you might want some help with Michelle. I don't want to miss my niece growing up, either."_

_Chandler still sounded unsure, though he reluctantly had to admit his best friend had laid out a very convincing case, "If you're sure?"_

"_Of course I'm sure," Joey affirmed, "When do we leave?"_

"We left three days later," Chandler admitted, "and we've been in New York ever since." He had been surprising himself, reliving all these memories wasn't nearly as painful as he'd imagined it'd be. He thought it probably had something to do with Monica, and her affectionate approach to getting him to open up. He felt so much closer to her now, sharing all this with her. He just prayed that when the evening inevitably came to an end, the connection that had been strengthened between them wouldn't disappear.

Monica smiled, "Joey must love you and Michelle very much. To be willing to give up his life in LA for you."

"Yeah," Chandler agreed with a thoughtful smile, "He's my brother in every sense of the word. I don't know what I'd do without him or Phoebe in my life. They keep me grounded. Michelle would also be stuck at daycare a _lot_ more if it wasn't for them."

"How did you meet Phoebe, anyway?" Monica asked, struggling not to sound the tiniest bit jealous and remind him of her earlier craziness.

"About a week after we moved here, we met her in this wacky little coffeehouse, a lot like Central Perk, actually," Chandler explained, "She used to play guitar there, and well Joey and I wandered in one day with Michelle. Michelle ran off, ended up 'talking' to her, with what few words she knew at the time. Well, they hit it off, and Phoebe's been hanging with us ever since. And that's pretty much the story there."

"Well, Michelle _is_ adorable," Monica admitted. "Though she seems to be making a habit of running off," she laughed, referring to Michelle running into her at Central Perk. "I can tell you're an amazing Daddy, though," Monica confessed, "She's lucky to have you."

Chandler, smiled, "Thanks. I try. I do wonder what effect Angie leaving is going to have on her when she's older, though. She doesn't really understand, or care right now, but in the future… she's going to have no Mommy to go shopping for a wedding dress with or to go to with her girly problems. What girl would want to do that with her Dad?"

"You're so much more than a normal dad to her, trust me," Monica assured. "She adores you."

Chandler gave a half-hearted smile in response, but his brow remained creased, as he continued to dwell on the subject. Suddenly changing the subject, he said pensively, "When I fell in love with Angie, I thought we'd be together forever. I never thought, in my wildest dreams it'd turn out this way." He sighed, "I guess few people do. She seemed like a natural mother…"

Monica stayed silent, leaning against him, from her position nearly on his lap, encouraging him to continue without a word.

"You know, when I met her, I was drunk out of my mind, I doubt I could have told you my own name. We weren't supposed to last, it was just a drunken thing… but then, I fell in love," he laughed, "It was the best and worst thing ever. I've never been more terrified in my life of a single emotion. Now I feel so lost without it…"

Monica rested her head on his shoulder, "Tell me how you met her."

Chandler smiled, a bittersweet smile flitting across his face, "Joey was having a party in our apartment, for his birthday…"

_Chandler sat at one of the barstools in his apartment, looking around at the crowd gathered for the party, bored out of his mind. He watched slightly bitter, as Joey chatted up several women at once. Chandler admitted to himself that that was certainly a feat that required some talent. He could barely talk to one woman at a time. Feeling a sudden wave of depression hit at his lack of girlfriend and the lack of potential for one any time in the foreseeable future, he snatched a second jello shot off the tray on the counter, swallowing it quickly before he could regret it._

_Less than a week ago, he'd broken up with Janice. She'd been his first serious relationship, since college. Chandler had thought he had been doing everything right. He was considerate and sweet, romantic and proved his willingness to commit. However, the second that Janice's husband had come back into her life, he'd been cheated on and ditched, just like in all the other relationships of his life._

_Sighing, pushing Janice and her infidelity from his mind, he decided he'd do better to stop being miserable, and at least try to have some fun. He stood up, wavering slightly on the spot as the alcohol he'd consumed suddenly rushed to his head. Just as he did so, the apartment door burst open, and all of Joey's seven sisters filed messily into the apartment, shouting out congratulations and birthday wishes to their brother._

_The party had progressed in a typical fashion, music blaring and everyone but him, it seemed, was having fun._

_Joey, sensing that his roommate was still feeling a little upset about Janice, approached him, "Hey buddy, how're you holding up?"_

_Chandler shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I wish Janice was here, though," he mused sadly._

"_Don't think like that," Joey assured him, adding a moment later, "What you need now, is to move on! Get over Janice! Find someone new. Hey! This party is filled with tons of hot chicks, go mingle and have some fun!"_

_Chandler sighed, trust Joey to be the one to suggest that a rebound was what he needed to get over Janice. Not quite sure what to say, he settled on a simple, "Thanks, man."_

"_Oh hey, Chandler, could you do me a favour and pass around these jello shots?" Joey asked, snatching them from the counter, "They're just sittin' there and no one's realizing they're there."_

_Chandler agreed, accepting the platter. 'Great,' he thought, 'just what I need to get over Janice. A night of being relegated to the role of waiter.' Feeling a surge of self-pity, he grabbed a shot from the tray, quickly downing it. When that didn't make him feel any better, he snatched another and downed it, too._

_Half an hour later, Chandler was feeling decidedly more upbeat, though that may have been the alcohol in his system. After sharing several jello shots with Pat, his and Joey's ceramic dog, Chandler had a sudden brilliant flash. It would be a great idea, he decided, to erase Janice from the speed dial settings on the phone._

_He stomped over to it, intent on erasing Janice's number. As he was doing so, several of Joey's sisters sidled up to him, and the one whose name he was fairly sure was Mary Angela – they all looked so similar! How was he supposed to be sure? – asked him what he had been doing._

_He explained his plan, and received a chorus of 'Awws,' but was quick to rebut, in a drunken, slurred voice, "No, no, no, it's a good thing. Why must we dial so speedily anyway?" Despite a vague feeling in the back of his head that he should be embarrassed for his drunken ramblings, he continued, "Why must we rush through life? Why can't we savour the precious moments?"_

_After all her sisters had cleared aw,ay Mary Angela sidled up to him, wrapping an arm around him casually. "Hey. Do you wanna maybe go and talk somewhere? You seemed kinda upset, just now, and I thought I might be able to help you feel a little better," she hinted._

_Chandler smiled broadly at her. Maybe this party wouldn't be a total waste after all… "Okay, wanna talk in the hall?" he suggested._

_After a quick glance backwards to make sure Joey wasn't watching them, Mary Angela took his hand and led him into the hallway. From there, she quickly pulled him towards the storage closet. She wasted no time pushing him against the wall, explaining, "I always thought you were cute." She didn't give him a chance to reply. As soon as the phrase left her mouth, her lips were pushed against his. Despite being drunk, something in the back of his mind screamed that this was a bad idea. He promptly ignored it. The feel of her warmth pressed up against him, her lips soft and alluring was too tempting to ignore._

_The next morning Chandler awoke in his bed, with a pounding headache. He groaned and rolled over, surprised to be confronted with a woman. A woman! How drunk had he been last night? Feeling like the biggest idiot that had ever walked the planet, he tapped her on the shoulder. The woman moaned slightly, and opened her eyes, smiling sweetly at him. Damn, this was not good! She was definitely one of Joey's sisters… He squinted at her trying to remember her name. No such luck._

"_Good morning, Chandler," she cooed, cuddling up to him._

_He opened and closed his mouth twice, not quite sure what to say, eventually settling on, "Morning," his tone overly bright._

_She smiled up at him, like he was the best part of her day. "I really enjoyed our talk last night," she admitted, "You're really sweet, you know that?"_

_They had talked? He vaguely remembered making out in the storage closet. His memories were decidedly fuzzy after that. They must have talked after the making out, he decided. "Oh, I don't know," he faltered, feeling like the world's biggest jerk. He didn't even know her name and she was calling him sweet?_

"_No, you were," she countered "You were amazing last, night, too, if you know what I mean," she added shyly, "I really think we might have something special here."_

_Not wanting to upset her, because he had the feeling if he did, she'd tell Joey, who would definitely kill him, he agreed. "Oh yeah. I could definitely see myself falling for you. You're a really cool person." It sounded lame, even to his ears._

"_Well, as much as I'd love to stay here all day, I've gotta get back to campus for class. I guess you know all about that, huh? You graduated last year, right?" He nodded, mutely, as she got dressed. Before leaving, she leaned over the bed to kiss him goodbye, and hand him a small sheet of paper with her name and number on it, instructing him to call her. He smiled at her weakly, barely noticing her leave._

_He looked down at the paper. The name Mary Angela was scribbled neatly above seven digits. Well, at least he knew her name now._

"I never meant to fall for her," Chandler explained, "But then, Joey found out, and he was so happy at the idea of us as a couple, and you know the prospect of being my brother-in-law some day. I was a huge coward and didn't want to get a fist in the face, so I decided to keep up the charade until I could talk to her and let her down gently the next night at dinner…"

_Chandler sat uncomfortably at the Tribbiani dinner table. After finding out about the budding romance between Chandler and Mary Angela, Joey had invited him to the family dinner. He kept throwing out hints about what a cute couple they made, and all the things that he and Chandler would do when they were brothers in-law._

_Chandler figured he better act soon, before Joey got even more carried away in his exuberance and started describing their future kids._

"_Chandler!" Joey whined, snapping Chandler from his thoughts, "Weren't you listening to what I said?"_

_Chandler looked apologetic, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking."_

_Giving Chandler a nudge, Joey winked and asked, "About Mary Angela?" Chandler nodded, not sure what else to say. Besides, he had _sort of_ been thinking of her._

"_Anyway," Joey continued, "I was wondering if when we're, you know, brothers-in-law you wanna go fishing." _

_Chandler looked at him exasperatedly. "We're not brothers-in-law, yet, Joe!"_

"_I know!" Joey stated, as if Chandler was the one being ridiculous, "It's just never too early to start planning these things."_

_Chandler rolled his eyes and changed the topic. "This tiramisu is excellent," he complimented. Grandma Tribbiani smiled at him, approvingly. 'Great' he thought, 'I'm in with the family, and they're probably going to hate me by the end of the night.'_

_Figuring now was as good a time as any, Chandler looked around the table, trying to distinguish Mary Angela among all the sisters. They all looked so similar… he glanced at each face, critically, before deciding the one in the black and red dress was definitely her. When she caught his eye across the table, and a grin exploded across her face, he grew more certain he'd picked the right sister._

_He excused himself from his seat, making sure to brush against Mary Angela as he walked past, subtly hinting that she should follow him. He was pleased, when a minute later, she slid from her seat, and met him in the living room, a huge grin on her face._

"_I'm so glad you decided to come to dinner tonight," she smiled. "I couldn't stop thinking about you all day," she informed, reaching up to kiss him. He blocked her and twisted himself away from her touch._

"_About that," he began, "I was thinking-" Mary Angela was paying no attention. She interrupted him playfully, "Stop playing hard to get, Chandler Bing!" She moved to kiss him again, and this time Chandler wasn't quick enough._

_Their lips collided together messily as Chandler squirmed, realizing too late that she was lunging toward him. After an awkward moment, however, Chandler found himself returning the kiss. He melted into her, surprised with himself for allowing the kiss continue this far. But it felt so perfect, and right. He melded into her, unable to tear himself away from the softness of her lips._

_Mary Angela was the one to finally pull away. She pressed herself up against him, leaning her head against his chest. Chandler swallowed heavily, slightly dazed. He hadn't been expecting the rush of emotions. As pleasant as it was, it unnerved him._

_Mary Angela spoke again. "What were you going to say earlier?" she asked._

"_Uh, what?" Chandler asked dumbly, his head still spinning._

"_You said you were thinking about us?" she told him, "What were you going to say?"_

_Chandler swallowed again to wet his dry mouth. What _was_ he going to say? He suddenly didn't want whatever this was between them to end. "Uh, I, was, I mean, wanted to ask you if maybe you wanted to go out for dinner? On a date?" he stuttered._

"And it pretty much carried on from there," Chandler explained, "14 months later we had Michelle, and 4 months after that, Joey got his wish and we got married."

"You guys had Michelle before you got married?" Monica asked, surprised.

"Yeah. We weren't planning on having her. She was like some divine gift from God, as horribly cheesy as that sounds," he shrugged, "I don't know what I'd do without her," Chandler confessed, "The day she was born was the best day of my life."

He wore a big smile on his face as the happy memories flooded through his mind. Monica was pleased to see that he had recovered enough from the previous more downtrodden topic of conversation to share his happiness with her.

Contemplating all that had been said, Monica blurted out, without really thinking, "You guys hadn't been married very long, then, when she left."

Chandler shook his head, in agreement, distress slipping back into his tone, "Only six months. I think that's part of why it was so devastating and hit me so hard. I thought we had it made! Our whole lives were ahead of us! We were still newlyweds, and we had a baby daughter. How does it get more perfect than that?" he questioned, rhetorically.

Sensing that he was drifting back towards his melancholy state from before, Monica hugged him tightly, as if trying to erase what she had blurted out a moment ago. She squirmed uncomfortably as something dug into her arm. Lifting herself slightly away from Chandler, she realized the object poking her was his ring, on the chain around his neck.

Seeing her staring at the ring, Chandler squirmed uncomfortably. Monica touched it, hesitantly, as if afraid it might burn her.

When his eyes met hers, Chandler could read the question in them, even before it was voiced, "Why do you still wear it?"

Chandler looked hesitant, as if he was worried she might be upset by his response.

"You can tell me anything, sweetie." Monica coaxed, the term of endearment slipping out, unconsciously, as she tried to get him to relax his tensed muscles. She stroked his back soothingly, expanding, "I _want_ you to tell me everything. I want you to have this outlet. No more bottling stuff up."

Chandler still looked hesitant for a moment, before a small smile burst across his face. "You're perfect, you know that?"

"So I've been told. Only wish my mother felt the same," she sighed.

"If your mother doesn't realize how perfect you are, she's an idiot," Chandler breathed into her hair, as he cuddled against her. "So perfect," by mumbled.

"Hey, hey! Flattery will not get you out of this. Start talking, mister."

Chandler shrugged, looking thoughtful, giving serious consideration to his answer. "I'm not really sure why. I guess it feels safe and comfortable. I've done it for so long. I never really thought about why. At first it was because I didn't want to be the loser who wore his wedding ring, after his wife left him. Yet, I wasn't willing to take it off. I felt I needed it to feel close to Mary Angela, after she left."

Monica looked at him a little lost, quite sure of the response she was expecting. However knowing that he wore his wedding band because he needed to feel close to his ex-wife, wasn't something she'd prepared herself for. She felt a little hurt at the thought of it, even though she knew it was irrational. She wanted him to feel close to _her_, not some other woman.

A little bit of her hurt seeping into her tone, she asked, "Why the hell would you want to feel close to someone willing able to stomp all over you heart like that?"

It was Chandler's turn to comfort Monica. He hugged, her, sliding her further onto his lap, mumbling reassuringly, "I don't. Not anymore. I have my sights set higher," he explained, smiling into her eyes, hopefully.

Monica felt her heart flutter, and tried futilely to keep the desperation out of her voice, as she muttered, "Really?"

He nodded, taking off the necklace and handing it to her. "I don't need it anymore. I don't even know why I still wear it. I gave up on the hope of Angie coming back years ago. I only wear it because it's one of those things I did that has became habit and just feels right. It was like I needed the weight around my neck to function properly. I know that sounds stupid," he admitted, "but I don't know how else to explain it."

Monica shook her head, clutching the ring tightly in her palm. "It doesn't sound stupid to me at all."

Even though he'd made it fairly obvious he was willing to move on, Monica felt the need to ask, anyway. Staring down at her lap, she quickly drummed up the courage and blurted out the question before she lost her nerve, "Do you still lov-"

Before the question was even fully out of her mouth, he answered. "Yes." Monica looked at him, her expression wounded, but he quickly rushed on, "I'm always going to love her for giving Michelle, but that's the extent of it. I love her as the mother of my child. Not as a wife. Not anymore." Monica looked relieved, and squeezed his hand appreciatively.

They sat in silence for a moment, both considering all that had been said, before Monica broke the silence in a barely audible voice, asking, "What about me? Could you ever see yourself … with me?"

Chandler smiled, grasping her hand, which was still clutching his ring, stroking the back of her knuckles with his thumb. "I thought my feelings for you were obvious."

Monica scoffed. "You shot me down cold a week ago in the cab, after I thought we hit it off. I don't hear from you, until a week later, when I bump into you in a coffeehouse, completely by accident and find you're still mourning the loss of your ex-wife. I think I'm entitled to feel a little unsure here," she mused, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me how you feel," she begged.

"I'm crazy about you, Monica," he admitted, "Just because I'm an idiot who keeps stupid feelings he no longer even has bottled up, and then uses them as an excuse to avoid falling in love again, has nothing to do with how I feel about you. You're gorgeous. Beautiful in every sense of the word. I've have to be an even bigger idiot than I've already been to not want to be with you. I can see happily ever after with you. I know that's probably presumptuous, being that we've never even been on a date, but I think I've proven today that I'm all over the emotional map." He sighed, taking a deep breath in an attempt to curb his rambling, "I guess what I'm really trying to get at here is that I could definitely see myself falling for you."

Monica looked at him with shiny eyes, a smile sliding across her face, "That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard." She reached up and stroked his cheek, tenderly.

Chandler grinned back, reveling in the feel of her hand against his cheek. "Really?"

Monica nodded, not trusting herself to reply with words. Hardly giving herself a second to think about what she was going to do before she did it, she leaned in, and planted a gentle kiss first against his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips.

The moment their lips met, in their first kiss, they were both gone, too lost in the wealth of emotions that fluttered within them to even consider what would happen when they parted.

The kiss was deepened near instantaneously as they melted into one another, reclining back into the couch. Chandler's hands slid up Monica's back, and wound themselves into her hair, gently cradling and caressing her head, all his efforts concentrated on expressing how much she meant to him through their kiss. Monica's hands soon followed suit, caressing his arms and shoulders, before eventually tangling their way into his hair. Her fingers weaved through his hair, stroking it, pulling him closer, her need to feel as close to him as possible overwhelming her.

The both stopped, and pulled away abruptly, when they heard a loud ting; the sound of metal hitting a hard surface.

Looking around, breathlessly, for the source of the disturbance, they spotted his wedding ring on the floor at their feet, where it had fallen after Monica dropped it, as she and Chandler lost themselves in their haste to express their feelings for one another.

They both sat up, still panting slightly, unable to stop themselves from staring at the jewelry forlornly.

It wasn't just the noise the ring had made that had parted them... There was so much tied up in that ring… his divorce and lingering affection for his ex-wife, his daughter… There was so much riding against them. Were they strong enough to form a relationship in spite of all that?

xx

_The new material has arrived! I've spent ages going over and over this one, so I hope it turned out okay for you all :)_

_I know it's mostly angsty and depressing, but happier more upbeat stuff is to come. All the others, including Joey and Rachel will reappear in the next chapter, too, for all of you that appreciate them :)_

_I'd really like feedback on this one, more than the others, because it is completely new and I want to try and make sure if segues with the old material without seeming like it was written by a totally different person. Any suggestions or comments are completely welcome._


	6. Chapter 6

**Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Six  
**

xx

Chandler was the first to abandon any thoughts that his past might create potential problems between him and Monica. Up until today he had been certain he wasn't ready for another relationship, but opening up to Monica had made him realize that his memories of Mary Angela no longer haunted him. Sure there were some bad memories tied up with her name, but there were also good ones. He was sure he was ready to move on. Monica's openness, willingness to listen and heartfelt responses had only made him more certain that she was exactly the woman he needed to help him move past his divorce.

He watched as she stared at the ring still on the floor of her apartment sadly, wondering if the last couple hours may have backfired on him. The experience had been perfect, both cathartic and comforting at once. It scared him slightly to think it, but he hadn't felt that close to anyone since Angie. The way Monica was acting, he had the distinct feeling that she was regretting everything that had happened between them. What he had perceived as the development of a bond between them, she had probably thought of as unleashing an emotional mess in her apartment

He stared at the back of her head, determined to right what he had messed up. Finally, after what felt like hours, Monica met his eyes. Chandler recognized the worry and nervousness in them immediately. Though it pained him to think she was upset because of him, he was also secretly pleased he could read her so easily.

"Monica," he stated, "I know what you're thinking… but don't. Okay? Trust me when I say I am over Mary Angela. I – I know it may seem like I'm not, especially with the way I was acting earlier, but, God, that's so not it. I'd – I'd never really talked about all those things, with anyone before and so it was all kind of bottled up, and came pouring out in one big mess… and I reall-"

Chandler was silenced, when Monica placed a finger to his lips, "It's easy for you to say that… but I was here, Chandler. I've never seen anyone so emotional. There's still something there, you can't talk like that about someone and not care about them. You just can't. I really care about you, I do, I'm just worried. I don't want to put my heart on the line and let myself fall in love with you, only to find you're still in love with your ex-wife."

Chandler shook his head smiling slightly, "I know it sounds stupid or crazy, maybe both, but I'm not. I haven't been for a long time. You helped me realize that, today. I was holding onto my memories, scared of what would happen if I let go. I'm not anymore. I know Mary Angela will always be a part of my life, I'll always have my memories, both good and bad, but I'm just not in love with her anymore. The only person I want to be with right now is you. Only you."

The beginnings of a smile were forming around the corner of her lips, "I want to believe you. God, I so want to. But how can you be sure? Look, maybe it's for best that you go." Chandler looked like he wanted to argue, but Monica shook her head, continuing anyway, "We both need some time and distance to clear our heads and make an unbiased decision about how we feel, without what happened today clouding our minds."

"Look," he suggested, "you don't have to decide right now, but know that I'm ready to move on… with you. I don't need any time to make my decision. We shared something unbelievable today," Chandler admitted, "and I'm not just talking about that kiss." They both smiled. "Feel free to take as long as you need to decide what you want to happen between us, if anything. I'll be waiting."

He stood up, and paused for a moment, before leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. Feeling suddenly brave, he leaned to kiss her gently on the corner of her mouth, as well. Not risking looking at her expression after he had done so, for fear of what it might tell him, he strode purposefully towards the exit, closing the door softly behind him.

xx

"I'm telling you, Joe," Chandler argued, leaning against the barstool in his best friend and former brother-in-law's apartment, "She seemed really torn. I think I could have totally messed this up!"

Joey smirked, sitting on the stool next to him. "Well you did break the dating rules, you know! No life stories before the second date," he explained knowledgeably, before looking up thoughtfully, "Though in your case you might be better off waiting until date fourteen in the future…"

"Gee, thanks, Joey," Chandler spouted sarcastically, "I know I can always count on you, for reassurance."

"You're welcome!" Joey smiled, earnestly, not catching Chandler's sarcasm. Chandler rolled his eyes, and flopped down on the counter in front of him, "What I am gonna do?" he groaned, "I _cannot_ fall in love with this woman, only to get my heart broken! Again!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Joey exclaimed, "In love? Since when are you in 'in love' with her?"

Chandler scoffed, irritably, "I don't know if I am! It sounds stupid, but I think I might've started falling last week, and then earlier, well... she was _so_ great, Joe! She held me and stroked my hair and for once I didn't feel like a huge idiot for being hung up on Angie. And best of all, I realized I'm actually not hung up on her anymore," he scoffed again, "Figures the day I get over Angie, I'd fall flat on my face in love with another one of them. Women suck."

"Hey, slow down there, bud," Joey butted in, "I'm not going to let you revert into Phase One. If you even _think_ of breaking out your sweat pants, I'll kill you myself. Besides, speak for yourself, I happen to like women." He grinned deviously.

Chandler looked distracted. "Yes, yes, I'm very pleased for you. Tell me, is there a secret to not turning women off you like you have the plague? I think I seem to have inherited that particular gift," he moped, sarcastically.

Joey stared at him sternly, "I don't think that's the problem here, dude. Rachel said Monica was totally into you after dinner last week. Said she like, wouldn't shut up about you, for days. You can't just turn that kind of thing off with a little moaning about your life. You said Monica kissed you after you talked, right? She couldn't have been that turned off. Trust me, if a chick doesn't like you, no way is she gonna make out with you."

Chandler seemed determined to make the worst of the situation. "She probably felt sorry for me," he grumbled.

"Dude, you're so not listening," Joey argued, "You shoulda heard what Rachel said Monica told her. No way is that the case."

Chandler looked a little more upbeat, "That good? At the risk of sounding like a 13-year-old girl… what'd she say about me?"

_Breathless from all their kissing, Rachel smiled briefly at Joey, before allowing him to pull her toward him again. For the last half an hour they had been lounging on his couch, her lying on top of him, alternating between kissing and talking, just comfortable being around one another, reveling in the nearness of the other._

"_Mmm," she moaned as they finally broke apart minutes later, "You're good at that."_

_Joey grinned, though he'd heard that particular compliment dozens of times before, it never got old, "I aim to please," he explained._

_Rachel just grinned back for a moment, before abruptly changing the topic. "Hey, have you talked to Chandler since Friday?"_

_Joey looked put out, staring at his girlfriend pointedly, "Rach, I wish I could say you were good at you know, 'stuff,' too, but putting the mental image of Chandler into my mind is so not helping."_

_Rachel swatted him playfully. "I don't think you need much help in that department," she teased with an arched eyebrow. Joey smirked. Though a lot of jokes whizzed right over his head, he was surprisingly intuitive when it came to sex. "Anyway," Rachel continued, "I was only asking, because he and Monica seemed to really hit it off at dinner. I was wondering if he said anything about her."_

_Joey shook his head sadly, hugging Rachel tightly as she laid her head against his chest, "No. He hasn't said anything about her. He hasn't really been in a good mood, at all, come to think of it," Joey scrunched up his face as he tried to remember Chandler's demeanor the last couple of days, "He seemed kinda mopey actually. He only really puts up a happy face for Michelle."_

_Rachel looked a little shocked, "Really? Monica's going nuts over him! It's really sweet, actually. She thinks they're soulmates. She said he was adorable and sweet and funny and… Well, there were a lot of 'ands.' God, you should have heard her, you'd think she was set to marry the guy or something! She actually told me that she thinks 'he's the one.' Isn't that sweet?"_

_Joey grinned, looking a little starry eyed, as his romantic side peeked out, "Really? That's so cute. Chandler's lucky! Monica's really hot!" Rachel slapped him again, looking mildly offended, but Joey quickly rectified his statement before Rachel could voice her frustration, "Not as hot as you, though!" Rachel kissed him in her appreciation, running a finger down his cheek._

_Joey grinned crassly, "I'm happy for my boy! He so needs this! You know it's been nearly three years for him? I don't know how he does it!"_

Chandler interrupted, offended, "Dude, you told her about my sex life!?"

Joey stared at him for a moment, clueless as to what he had done wrong. "What?"

Chandler rolled his eyes, opting to ignore what Joey had blabbed, "Nevermind. So, she actually said that? You're not just saying that to make me feel better about Monica?"

Joey looked at Chandler like he was crazy for a moment, "Dude, I couldn't act well enough to get a spot in a 'Noodle Soup' commercial, and you think I came up with this on the spot? Let's not get carried away here."

Chandler smirked, "It was a 'Soup' commercial, Joe." Joey only scowled sourly in response.

"I hope you're right about Monica, though," Chandler sighed, "God, I hope you're right. I know I told her I was cool with her taking as long as she needed to decide, but, as it turns out, waiting sucks."

Joey nodded eagerly in agreement, willing to forgive Chandler for his earlier misgivings, "I know! One time I had to wait in the line at Burger King for twenty minutes! It was torture."

Chandler couldn't help but laugh in response. "So you know how I feel, then," he managed with a straight face. Looking sulkily at the ceiling, he scowled, "This sucks."

Joey looked at him helpfully. "Well you can always ask Rachel for help. She so wants you guys together!" he divulged, eager to share, if it might make his best friend feel better, "She has a plan and everythi…" Joey trailed off, seeing the look on Chandler's face.

"What!" Chandler screeched, "What do you mean 'she has a plan?'" Joey cowered in response, looking sorry for ever sharing that tidbit.

"Oh crap," Joey muttered to himself, suddenly remembering what Rachel had told him: "Whatever you do, don't tell Chandler about the plan. Secrecy is key."

'So much for that,' he thought. Pretending he hadn't heard Chandler's shouted question, Joey moved towards the fridge, taking his time searching within it, pretending to grab something from the fridge to avoid Chandler's stares.

"Joey!" Chandler snipped, "I know what you're doing!"

Joey peeked out from the safety of the fridge cautiously, "What do you mean?" he questioned in his most innocent voice, coincidentally sounding even more guilty than before, "I was getting something to eat!" he snatched a random item from the fridge, holding it up triumphantly.

Chandler looked at him, amused, "You eat cheese strings? I thought you kept those over here for Michelle." Joey looked at the food he'd picked up, glaring at Chandler and ripping one of the individually wrapped pieces of cheese from the bunch, before tearing it open defiantly. Joey grinned inwardly, pleased that his food tactic had worked in diverting Chandler's attention.

"No, I love cheese strings! They're so much fun! You get to eat _and_ have fun! I taught Michelle how to make a cowboy," Joey explained, realizing that in trying to cover one thing up he had inadvertently revealed another. He looked a little embarrassed, but that didn't stop him from tearing and twisting at his cheese, creating an image with it, before showing it to Chandler proudly. "Look what I can do!"

Chandler stared at it for a moment before he realized what it was, looking less than impressed with Joey's cheese creation, "You better not have showed that one to Michelle!" Catching the steely expression in Chandler's eyes, Joey was quick to defend himself, "Of course not! I do have some standards, ya know!"

Chandler smirked at him, "Right, this coming from the guy who makes," he hesitated, gesturing to Joey's cheese creation, "well, that, with a child's snack." Joey smiled slightly guiltily before shrugging.

A short silence fell, before Chandler asked, a little venom returning to his voice, "So… what plan?"

"Oh crap," Joey muttered, a second time, seriously having believed that he had successfully diverted Chandler's attention elsewhere. Seeing Chandler's hard stare was not easing, Joey sighed, deciding relenting was his best option. At least he'd live until he saw Rachel again…

"_Joey," Rachel giggled. "I can't believe you'd say that! Don't you think it's romantic? You know, that he's holding out for the right person, since your sister left him? Maybe, you know, a certain brunette I happen to know and live with?" she hinted strongly, so that even Joey, as oblivious as he was, would catch her meaning._

_Joey shrugged, a smile creeping onto his face, "You really want him and Monica together, don't you?"_

_Rachel nodded, running a hand through his hair. "I think they could be so cute together. Almost as cute as us," she kissed his nose, "He's exactly what she needs and vice versa. I'm not sure exactly what happened between them, I've not quite broken Monica on that yet, but they're both obviously hung up on one another. I'm pretty sure from the way that she's acting that he broke it off, though. I bet he's avoiding her because he's afraid of facing his feelings for her," she mused," but if they could just see one another again, I know everything would fall into place."_

_Joey looked at her a little dumbfounded, "How do you mean?"_

_Rachel's voice took on a dreamily quality, as she stared off into space, "It'd be so romantic. Their eyes would meet across the room, and their faces would break into big smiles, when they realized that destiny had brought them together. They'd walk slowly towards one another, too caught up in each other to notice anyone around them, and then, when they finally reached one another, they'd hug, and that would turn into a passionate but tender kiss, and they'd realize that–" _

"_Uh, Rach," Joey interjected, helpfully, "You know this hasn't actually happened, right?"_

_She looked at him, crossly, for interrupting her daydream about her matchmaking skills, "I know that! But wouldn't it be cool, if it did?" she hinted, adding when she saw Joey remained clueless to her implication, "Maybe, we should make it happen?"_

_Joey nodded, impressed with the idea, especially if it meant Chandler would stop sulking around and being such a killjoy, "How do we get them together, though? Chandler's always moping around now! He doesn't wanna do anything fun anymore! He won't even play foosball with me," Joey pouted._

_Rachel paused in her thinking for a moment, "Hmm. Well, Monica said he works in the big office building across the street from her restaurant. She's been looking out for him among the guys who eat there for lunch everyday."_

_Joey nearly choked on his glee, "Yeah, the 'Weenies'! Chandler told me that story! He's been avoiding there, though."_

_Rachel looked upset, "What! You said he hadn't mentioned her when I asked!"_

_Joey shrugged, uncomfortable under her stare, "He hasn't!" he whined, "He just said that the restaurant people came up with that name and that he thought it was a bad idea to go to lunch with the 'Weenies'" he giggled, "again, because it would be awkward. He didn't say it was because he was avoiding her. I thought he just didn't wanna be called a weenie."_

_Rachel was quiet for a few seconds, a thoughtful look on her face, before she burst into a smile, announcing, "Okay, I've got plan, but I'm gonna need your help!"_

"Yeah?" Chandler asked, in anticipation, as Joey finally got to the part in the story he was most interested in, "So what was the plan?"

Joey frowned at him. "What? You expect me to remember everything she says? Rachel talks a lot, you know!" he pouted.

"Well seeing as you were supposed to be involved in this great plan," Chandler drawled, "I would think you would at least remember it!"

Joey shrugged. "I remember I was supposed to pretend to be hungry and complain about it to you until you agreed to buy lunch for me," he supplied, looking at Chandler hopefully, clearly expecting praise for remembering his part.

Chandler just scowled at him in response. "Joey, that doesn't even make any sense! How would that get Monica and I to meet up again and 'fall in love with one another'?" Chandler asked, confused. "Besides, how is that any different from what you do _every_ day?"

"Well," Joey considered, before smiling cheekily, "someone was actually telling me to do it, for a change. Why do you care so much about the plan, anyway?!"

"Well, seeing as you and Rachel were trying to run my love life for me through this clever little plan of yours, I think I have a personal interest in the matter."

"Dude," Joey complained irritably, "weren't you listening? This is Rachel's plan! I don't know anything. Don't blame me." Chandler rolled his eyes, for what he was sure was the twentieth time that day. He loved Joey, but the guy sure was frustrating…

Joey suddenly snapped his fingers. "Oh! I remember something else Rachel said!" Chandler stared at him plainly, not expecting much.

"–_and Jenny Welsh from Marketing got dumped by her boyfriend last week," Rachel gossiped, "because they ran into her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend on the subway, and she was totally jealous of them being all cuddly, but now she's got another boyf–" Joey yawned, as he tuned out Rachel's seemingly never-ending stream of gossip, pulling her close to him, content to simply lay there with her warm weight pressing comfortably on top of him, as they cuddled on the couch._

_A few minutes later, Joey was roused from his near slumber, as Rachel questioned him impatiently, "Joey? Joey! Are you listening to me? What was the last thing I said?" she challenged._

_Joey looked up, a deer caught in headlights expression on his face, before venturing a guess, cautiously, "Uhmm… Jenny Welsh is a slut?"_

_Rachel, scoffed at him, muttering, "Lucky guess." Joey sighed in relief. "Anyway," she continued, "It seems like everyone has someone now. Well, except Monica. But we're going to fix that," she grinned, nudging Joey, who seemed dangerously close to tuning her gossiping out again._

"_Yep," Joey agreed. "With _the plan_," he said, making sure his voice sounded ominous as he spoke the words 'the plan.'_

"_Yes," Rachel agreed, happily, "You are being such a good sport about this! I'm so glad you're my boyfriend." Muttering under her breath, she snipped, "Ross would have never gone along with this."_

"_You are so gonna be rewarded for this!" She declared._

_A huge carnal smile engulfed Joey's face, "Yeah?" he questioned._

_Rachel nodded, seductively, reaching down to kiss his lips, her hair falling in her face as she did so. Joey briefly considered that she'd never looked more beautiful, before his thoughts were overtaken by more pleasurable endeavors. His well-trained fingers swiftly found the buttons on Rachel's blouse, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could manage without seeming overeager. Within the minute her shirt was whipped onto the floor next to the couch. Her bra was quick to follow. Joey's hands roamed her body enthusiastically, and she returned his embrace with equal passion, as her hands reached for the zipper on his pants. She–_

"Dude," Chandler interrupted, "how'd we go from talking about my problem with Monica, to you talking about having sex with Rachel?"

Joey ignored him, whining, "Dude, you didn't even let me get to the good part!" He smiled crudely, as images of Rachel in various states of undress floated through his mind, opening his mouth to speak again.

"No, no," Chandler stopped him, "that's okay. I think I've learned enough about you and Rachel today to last me clean through the rest of my life."

Joey huffed, a little miffed that his best friend wasn't willing to listen to his story, "But, dude, Rachel is so hot!"

Chandler gave that thought brief consideration before shaking his head, suddenly looking a little alarmed, "I think you and Rachel are great, and I'm happy for you guys, I swear. Just… please tell me you're not messing around, with her, okay, Joe? She's – She's Monica's best friend. I don't want Monica hating me. If she hated me…"

"Look, no worries, buddy," Joey assured him, "Rachel and I are serious. I haven't felt this way since Kate! We're cool. I know I mess around a lot, but Rachel's different than the girls I usually go for. She's hot, but she's cool, too. She's smart and funny and she doesn't think I'm stupid or tell me I'm wasting my life being an actor. She's totally into it! She even reads lines with me," Joey explained gleefully.

"That's awesome," Chandler agreed, genuinely happy for him. However his mind was on other things, "What am I gonna do?" he questioned Joey, banging his head on the countertop, "She's gotta think I'm insane."

xx

In the four hours since she'd asked Chandler to leave, Monica had cleaned her entire apartment, to try and settle her mind. Vacuuming the throw rugs hadn't made her feel any better. Neither had scrubbing the toilet. Even sorting out Rachel's 200 pairs of boots hadn't helped. She hadn't been able to think of anything but Chandler and the decision he'd left her to make. Half an hour ago, she'd given up on cleaning and taken to lazing on the couch, staring off into space as she finally allowing the thoughts to engulf her, trying to reach some kind of decision.

Monica sat up, startled, looking towards the door, from her position laying on the couch, as her roommate entered the apartment. Rachel immediately knew something was wrong, and rushed towards her.

"What's the matter, honey?" she questioned, sympathetically, as she sat down on the table across from her, "Did Chandler leave again?"

"No," Monica mumbled in reply, "I told him to leave."

Rachel seemed shocked. "What! Are you crazy? Why would you tell the guy you've been obsessing over for a week to leave!?"

Monica shrugged. "I just thought it might be better if we had some space from one another, before we made a decision about us. He wants us to be together. I thought I did, too. But he said some things that made me think and now I feel more confused than ever."

Rachel nodded sympathetically. She had a feeling she knew what was bothering Monica. She broached the topic carefully, "He told you about Mary Angela, huh?"

Monica's head shot up angrily. Her attention pulled away from where she had been absently tracing the patterns on the throw pillows, "You knew about that, too! Do you tell me anything any more?"

Rachel looked at her sheepishly, "Joey told me," she said guiltily, "but I didn't think it was my place to say anything. I considered telling you, for like a second, but I wasn't sure what to say. You needed to talk to Chandler about it, not me."

Monica sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. "We did. Talk, I mean. But, God Rach, I don't know what to do! I really, really like him," she admitted, "God, he's so sweet, and I know he could be perfect for me, if I let him… but he's got so much baggage! You should have seen how emotional he got talking about it!"

"Well, hun," Rachel smiled at her, motioning for Monica to scoot over, so she could take a seat next to her on the couch. "Joey said Chandler's never really talked about her leaving before," she explained, "After keeping silent that long, he's bound to get a little emotional. But what's important is that he _did_ share this with you. He could have just as easily shut you out. But he made the effort. With _you_. Obviously he's feeling something for you."

"Yeah," Monica relented. "I guess. But what if he changes his mind later?" she wondered, her eyes wet, "What if he decides that he isn't over her? Or that I'm not the right person for him to be moving on with? I already feel so drawn to him, I don't want to fall further only to get my heart broken."

Rachel stroked a piece of her hair out of her face comfortingly, "Relationships end sometimes, hun, you deal with it and you move on. You'll never know if you don't take that chance though."

Monica sighed and nodded, "I guess. He said he was definitely over her, and that he cared about me, a lot. He made it clear he wanted to be with me. But…"

Rachel looked at her perplexed, "But…?"

Monica took a deep breath, feeling guilty for her next thoughts, even before she voiced them, "But it's not just about him being able to move on! He's a father! … he already has a child! She's amazing, don't get me wrong. I just – I'm not sure if I want to be part of a ready-made family. I don't know if I want to date someone who already has that responsibility! Imagine the strain that could put on a relationship!"

Rachel waved her concerns off, swiping at the air, as if she were literally pushing them aside, "Single parents have relationships all the time! Besides," she pointed out rationally, "Richard had kids."

Monica eyes darkened as her mind went to their breakup. She nodded reluctantly, "Yeah, but that was different. His kids were already grown up. Anyway," she muttered, "look how that turned out! He decided he'd already had kids and didn't want any more with me! I want to have my own kids and experience being pregnant. I didn't settle with Richard, and I won't settle with Chandler, either. I need the white picket fence."

Rachel looked at her sternly. "Chandler isn't Richard, Mon! Richard was old!"

Monica glared at her, spitting sarcastically, "Yeah, thanks!"

"Sorry, sorry. But my point is Richard and Chandler are different people! What makes you think they're going to act the same way?"

"I don't know," Monica replied, meekly, "but what if he does decides he doesn't want kids with me?"

"Did Chandler ever specifically say he didn't want any more kids?" Rachel questioned her roommate.

"No," Monica answered, reluctantly.

"Then that's not going to happen," Rachel insisted, "Based on what you've said, Chandler's obviously crazy about you. He's willing to get over his fears for you. If he knew how much this meant to you, he wouldn't take that opportunity away from you. You were born to be a 'Mommy.' We all see it, Mon. Besides, have you seen that man with his daughter? He loves her so much. He wants more kids, Mon. Trust me on this one."

Surprised, Monica stared at her, "You've seen him with Michelle?"

Rachel nodded, "Yeah, I went 'round to Joey's to hang out, and they were there. They were so cute together. We played hungry hungry hippos with her for a bit," she grinned, "at Joey's insistence. He seemed to enjoy it more than she did."

A smile spread across Monica's face. "Yeah, she's so adorable. I hope my kids are that cute. Chandler has done such a great job with her, too. She's so smart! She held an actual conversation with me! Hard to believe she's only three…" Rachel nodded in agreement.

"I'm not sure I want to be a stepmother, though," Monica added, "Having a step daughter was never a part of my dream family."

"Mon, what are you talking about? You love kids! And did you just hear yourself a minute ago? You spent five minutes with her, and you're already in love with that little girl!"

"What if she ends up hating me, though? I don't want her to feel like I'm trying to replace her mother. You know how it is! When your parents broke up, and your Dad started dating that new woman, you hated her for keeping your parents apart! I don't want to be that woman. I can't replace Michelle's mother, and I don't want her to hate me for trying!"

Rachel nearly choked on her laugher when she realized what the real source of the problem was, "This isn't about how you feel about her at all! It's about how she's going to feel about you! You want her to like you!"

When Monica looked down guiltily, Rachel knew she had guessed right. "She's three, Mon, she's not going to hate you. She probably doesn't even remember her mother! She going to love you for you."

Monica still seemed unsure. "But what if down the line-"

"No," Rachel interrupted, "You'll be the only mother she's ever known. And Mon, you'll be a damn good one, too. You're a natural mother."

"Why does this have to be so complicated?!" Monica complained.

"It's not. You're just making out to be that way. It's actually very simple. You like Chandler. Chandler likes you. Michelle is going to love you, and you'll all live happily ever after! What's so complicated about that?"

"Well when stories start with 'once upon a time' and end in 'happily ever after' they never seem complicated, Rach!" Monica mocked her friend's romantic vision, "This isn't a fairytale! What if Michelle doesn't like me? I could just as easily become the wicked stepmother!"

"Not going to happen!" Rachel asserted, "This insecurity is not a reason to blow him off! Think of it this way: if there was no Michelle, only an ex-wife, would you be so hesitant?"

"No," came Monica's whispered reply, "I'd want to at least try."

"Then you have your answer," Rachel explained, "Chandler and Michelle may come as a package deal, but you're gonna be all the more loved for it. They're both going to adore you as much as you do them."

Monica considered Rachel's words for a few moments, allowing them to sink in, before she nodded in agreement, "You're absolutely right, Rach," she agreed, grinning and hugging her in thanks for her help, "I think I need to talk to Chandler…"

xx

_Yay, another new chapter :)_

_I hope the little bit of Rachel/Joey in here will meet the satisfaction of all of those who've been wanting to see more of them. More goodness for both couples is on the way :)_

_Sorry it's taken me a bit longer than usual to get this up and posted. I've been busy with coursework, swamped with several assignments due each day the last week. As a huge procrastinator that didn't work out so well for me :P Anyway, now with the weekend, I'm back on track, free to continue writing more fun stuff. This is the last chapter I have pre-written, so from now on chapters may be coming a little bit slower, depending on how long it takes me to get around to writing, and then actually complete the chapter. Thankfully, I have a good friend who has promised to be on my ass and make sure I actually do get around to it, preferably sooner than later :P_

_As always, feedback motivates me, too, so I'd love to hear what you have to say about this chapter or any suggestions for future chapters in a review :)_


	7. Chapter 7

**Listen to Your Hear – Chapter Seven**

xx

Monica stood nervously in front of Chandler's apartment door, staring at the clean blue paint, and silver digits embossed on it. She'd never been to his apartment before. Several butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of entering it and seeing his face for the first time in several days.

For a moment, horror struck as she wondered if she'd come to the right apartment. She had only seen the building for a short time, on the cab ride home the night they'd had dinner. She'd managed to nonchalantly (so she hoped) weasel the apartment number from her gossipy roommate, while she glowingly discussed her boyfriend, and every detail under the sun about him.

After her heart-to-heart with Rachel, Monica had realized that all the details of Chandler's divorce and single-parent status didn't matter to her, anymore. She only cared about him, and the possibility that together they might have something great. She had purposefully marched out of her apartment, intending to head straight to his and confront him face-to-face, cleanly laying out her feelings for him. As soon as she'd stepped out of her apartment she was confronted with a sense of nervousness she wasn't expecting. What if he no longer felt the same way? What if he decided she had taken too long making a decision for her feelings for him to be genuine? What if Michelle _actually_ didn't like her? There were so many 'what-ifs.' Unconsciously, her feet had carried her the long way to his apartment in an attempt to put off the potential for rejection for as long as possible.

Now, here she was, staring down his door, too afraid to knock. She was losing in a battle of wits against a _door_. The thought of losing at anything sent a rush of competitive adrenaline surging through her veins. Taking a shaky breath, Monica quickly knocked on the door before she could regret it.

The seconds it took him to answer seemed like an eternity. That was all forgotten the moment he appeared at the door. His hair was tousled and his work suit was a little rumpled; he'd abandoned his jacket, his tie was loosened and his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. Monica couldn't help but think he was adorable in his ruffled state. She briefly wondered if it had anything to do with her.

As soon as he'd registered who was standing at his door, Chandler wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, exclaiming, "Mon! So glad to see you!" He happily ushered her inside, leading her to the couch. A rush of warmth flooded over her, at the feel of him around her.

"Hey… I think we need to talk," she suggested. The sober tone of her voice erased the smile that had formed on his face at the sight of her.

"That phrase never ends with anything good. I'm not going to like this, am I?" he wondered aloud, nervously wringing he hands.

"Chandler, I…." she trailed off, not sure where to begin.

Chandler intervened before she could continue, "Before you finish, I just want you to know I meant what I said a couple days ago. I'm crazy over you. I want – no, need – you in my life. Even if you don't think this," he gestured between them, "could work out, I want us to be friends. I-" he stopped mid-sentence, not sure how to express his feelings any clearer. He stroked a strand of hair from her face, gently, looking at her hopefully.

Monica forced away tears, wondering how she could have ever been unsure of his feelings. She grasped his hand squeezing it gently. She'd known him, not counting their stupid teenage years, less than a week, yet, his expression of his feelings for her somehow felt more genuine than previous boyfriends' had after months together. He was sitting before her, with his heart on his sleeve, begging for confirmation that it was okay for him to feel the way he was about her.

Struggling for the words to describe what she was feeling, she settled on, "You're incredible, you know that?"

He allowed a small smile to flit across his face at the compliment, hoping that it was a good sign. Trying to ease the tension, he nodded mock-seriously, "I try not to let it go to my head." Monica laughed, and Chandler grinned broadly at the sound, pleased he'd been able to ease the mounting tension.

"I talked to Rachel, and she made me realize something," Monica explained, "I'm crazy about you, too. I don't want the past to get in the way of the future. We could be great together."

The relief on his face was obvious. He nodded wordlessly in agreement, urging her closer to him, folding her comfortably into his arms. "You have no idea how long the past couple days have seemed," he told her relief in his voice, "I was beginning to wonder when the number of hours in a day was bumped up to 37. Waiting to hear from you was like torture. Then, when I saw you at the door… I've never been more thrilled and terrified at the same time in my life."

Monica rested her head comfortably on his shoulder, grinning up at him, "I hope the long wait was worth it." He nodded, mumbling "Perfect," as he pulled her closer to him, so she was sitting in his lap, her weight fully dependent on him.

They smiled happily into one another's eyes for a moment, and seeing their mutual want, leaned in, their lips meeting in their first kiss as a couple. The closeness and undeniable passion that they felt for one another was palpable. Inhibitions were thrown into the wind, as they drew one another closer, craving deeper contact. The moment was shattered as the front door burst open.

Rachel and Joey causally strolled in, Joey with Michelle in his arms. Monica and Chandler broke apart, but weren't quick enough.

The second Joey set Michelle down, she ran towards her father, looking at him questioningly, when she saw Monica in his lap. She waved at her shortly, before asking her father, "Why's Monica sitted on you, Daddy?"

"Umm… honey, well," Chandler stuttered, glancing quickly at Monica, before answering, as if hoping her eyes might hold the proper response, "it's because we're really good friends now, and we like to be close to one another, is that okay?" he asked Michelle, gently. She nodded eagerly, liking the idea of Monica being her Daddy's friend. Without a second thought on the matter she launched jubilantly into the story of her day.

Grinning at Monica and Chandler's embarrassed faces, Joey beamed. "I'll bet you're friends," he mumbled, with a lewd grin plastered on his face. He ignored Rachel as she slapped him on the arm, scoldingly; it was clear from the expression on her face she was as amused with the situation as he was. "What'cha been doin'?" he questioned, teasingly, though he knew exactly what they had been doing.

Shooting a pointed sideways glance at Michelle, Chandler grimaced and shot Joey a warning look, "We were hugging," he explained, with a half-truth.

Ignoring Chandler's cues, Joey continued, amused, "Really? By the wrinkled state of your clothes, it looks like that must have been a very…" his brow furrowed as he tried to recall the word he wanted, "intense hug," he explained in a fake-innocent tone, a wicked grin on his face.

Chandler's harsh glare sobered Joey a little. "Be careful what you say when my D-A-U-G-H-T-E-R is in the room, Joe."

Joey looked at Chandler baffled, "Your who?" He paused to shake his head, trying to clear it, "What?"

Affording one last irritated glance at his former brother-in-law, Chandler nodded his head overdramatically in Michelle's direction. He changed the topic, hoping Joey would take the hint, wondering, "What are you guys doing here? And why do you have Michelle? I thought she was with Phoebe?"

"Oh, I invited Rachel to dinner," Joey explained, "and Phoebe dropped Michelle off with me an hour ago 'cause she had a client call and book a last-minute massage appointment, and you were still at work."

"So you came to drop off Michelle, then, before you go to dinner?" Chandler asked.

Joey looked at him incredulously, "No. We're here for dinner." He looked concerned for a moment, asking worriedly, "You are cooking dinner, right?"

"So," Chandler summed up, ignoring the question, "instead of actually taking your girlfriend out for dinner, you decided to spend the night mooching off me?"

"Dude," Joey whined, "we're just hungry. Besides, Rachel wanted to hang out with Michelle more!" Grinning slyly at Chandler, making sure Rachel wasn't listening, he leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Your daughter is such a chick-magnet!" Joey backed away meekly upon catching what was probably the twentieth glare Chandler had sent in his direction since he'd entered the apartment. Joey figured he'd better shut up on that particular subject if he wanted to eat. "So," he wondered, "what's for dinner?"

"Joey," Rachel squealed, reprimanding her boyfriend, "dinner isn't important, when there's details to be shared! Look at them," she waved a hand in Chandler and Monica's general direction, "They are so adorable!" The couple looked suitably embarrassed, but remained frozen in their seats.

Michelle looked at Rachel, tilting her head curiously, "What's is adorable?"

Rachel knelt down in front of her and explained, "It means cute. Your Daddy and Monica make very cute 'friends' don't you think?" she asked the three-year-old.

Michelle nodded enthusiastically, in agreement, "I like Monica." Rachel glanced surreptitiously in Monica's direction, pleased to see her roommate break into a small smile at the declaration.

xx

After Rachel and Joey had burst unceremoniously into Chandler's apartment and interrupted Monica and Chandler's kiss, Monica had been dragged into the bathroom by Rachel, to discuss – for what felt like hours – all the details and the conversation that had preceded it.

Eventually, Joey's whining that he was hungry had gotten to everyone, so Monica offered up her skills as a chef, agreeing to cook dinner for everyone. Joey was especially pleased by this proposal. The idea that a qualified chef was preparing his meal was much more appealing to him than whatever Chandler might end up cooking. As much as Chandler was a better cook than he was, Joey was sick of macaroni and cheese with little cut up hot dogs! Was it so much to ask for a little variety?

Chandler had opposed the idea, wanting to spend a little time with Monica, preferably without two well-meaning but interfering best friends in the way, but had been outnumbered. So, he left Rachel and Joey in the living room, entertaining his daughter, and offered to help Monica in the kitchen, more out the need to be close to her than out of a genuine desire to help.

Monica grinned sardonically at Chandler as she scoured the fridge for cooking ingredients. "You have a child, and you live like you're still in college! How has your daughter not developed a case of scurvy, yet?"

Chandler glanced at where his daughter was laughing at something Rachel had said, quickly, as if checking to make sure she actually _didn't_ have scurvy, before shooting back, "Hey, we have orange juice! And some vegetables!"

Monica ran a hand gently down his arm, letting him know she was only teasing, then pulled out several vegetables from the crisper drawer. Chandler grinned at the small contact, feeling much lighter than he could remember feeling any time over the past couple of days.

Setting the vegetables on the wooden cutting board, Monica instructed, "Chop these. Here's the plan: we're making portobello lemon chicken, served on a bed of white rice, with a side of steamed veggies."

Chandler looked at her in mock-horror, "That sounds… healthy. Joey is going to be very upset he put so much faith in your cooking abilities."

"His stomach will thank me later," Monica asserted, with her head still stuck in the refrigerator, as she pulled out various other ingredients.

Glancing at the array of products on his countertop, Chandler shot her a doubtful look, "Are you sure I'm qualified to help with making this?"

Monica grinned cheekily at him, "Probably not, but that's what I'm here for!"

"Haha," he teased back, "So I just chop them like this," he indicated to the pepper he was cutting messily, "right?"

Monica cringed, "Not like that! Make sure all the slices are parallel, like this!" She took the knife from him, smiles flitting across both of their faces as their hands touched. She cut the peppers neatly and efficiently, as Chandler stood close behind her, watching her actions with his hands on her waist, and his chin mere millimetres from the bare skin of her neck.

"Wow," he praised, "You even make cutting vegetables look good."

Monica smiled faintly, hardly aware that he had been speaking, much less what had been said. The feel of him standing behind her, his breath warm on her neck was captivating all of her attention. Chandler was fully aware of what he was doing to her, and kissed her neck gently, pleased when she melted back against him, to prevent her legs from buckling underneath her.

Monica smiled dreamily up at him for a moment. Sobering, she peered furtively into the living room to see if either Rachel or Joey had noticed, but they were contently playing with Michelle and her Barbies.

Feeling suddenly bold, a flash of adrenaline shooting through her, Monica turned in Chandler's arms so she was facing him, and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him into an affectionate kiss, twining her hands through his hair, pulling him closer to her. Before either could get too much into it, Chandler pulled away, and murmured, "You make cooking a lot more fun than it ever was in home ec!"

Monica nodded, burying her blushing face into his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of him, still feeling a little dizzy from the overwhelming thought that he was hers, and wanted this as much as she did. Feeling a little regretful at the thought of the separation it would require, she suggested, "Maybe we should get started on the sauce for the chicken?"

Chandler gave her a pout– a skill Joey perfected, and no doubt passed on to him – and followed her obediently, as she moved to pour ingredients into a small bowl and began stirring them. He wrapped his arms around her gently from behind, running his hands lightly across her stomach, leaving behind trails of fire wherever he touched her. Monica continued to stir absently, her attention focused more on his hands and how amazing his touch felt. In a voice that sounded suspiciously breathy, she moaned, "What are you doing? We're supposed to be cooking!"

Chandler kissed her ear, before whispering in it, "I'm helping!" He rested his chin lightly on her shoulder, and Monica turned slightly in his arms so he could reach to kiss her, if he wanted.

He immediately complied, his lips finding hers in a tantalizing kiss; the previous kiss seemed a mere friendly one in comparison. Their tongues met and intertwined, as they pulled one another nearer, needing to feel as close as humanly possible. All thoughts of Joey and Rachel, and being caught flew from their minds.

Monica was the one to finally pull away, and wobbled on the spot for a moment, her knees feeling like jello. Chandler wrapped his arms tightly around her, steadying her, whispering teasingly, "That good, huh?"

"Some help you are," Monica attempted an admonishing tone, which fell decided flat thanks to the yearning clearly evident beneath the surface of her expression.

Chandler grinned at her deviously. "I can be more helpful… If you'd like." He ran his hands gently down her shoulders, across her stomach, then teasingly close to her breasts, close enough to feel her pounding heart, and know that she wanted this as much as he did. Not that he had been doubtful before. Slyly, content with the knowledge that he was doing the exact opposite of what she wanted, he slid his hands slowly away and kissed the back of her neck lightly, wondering mock-innocently, "Sorry, was I being too helpful?"

xx

In the living room, Rachel slyly watched out of her peripheral vision as Monica and Chandler tinkered about the kitchen, pretending to be fully engaged in playing with Michelle. She had a prime opportunity to get some first-hand gossip, and she wasn't going to pass it up!

"Aww, Joey. Look!" Rachel insisted, pointing inconspicuously toward the kitchen, where Monica and Chandler were 'cooking,' but seemingly getting very little actual, productive cooking done. "Aren't they sweet? They keep checking back here to make sure we're not watching them, and then they'll kiss, or touch or hold hands!"

Joey looked upset at this remark, rubbing his grumbling stomach, whining petulantly, "What! How come they're not cooking! I'm hungry!"

Rachel stroked his hair, playfully. "You can wait, right, baby?" she pleaded giving him her most placating smile. He smiled back at her, happy to let her lead. "Look how happy they are! I don't know about Chandler, but Monica hasn't smiled and giggled that much since we were in 8th grade and she liked Will Straw! They are so adorable together! Not as adorable as we are, of course." She grinned at Joey, who kissed her lightly on the nose at the comment. Her grin widened at the touch, and ran a fingertip down his arm, returning his affection.

"Uncle Joey, Auntie Rachel! You guyses wasn't listending to me!" Michelle piped up, tired of being ignored by her uncle and honorary aunt, who were far too immersed in one another for her tastes, "Uncle Joey, you're apposed to be Barbie and Auntie Rachel, you gotta be Ken. I is gonna be Skipper."

Rachel looked amused, "Sweetie, don't you think Uncle Joey should be Ken, because he's a boy?"

Michelle shook her head fervently. "Uncle Joey always wantses to be Barbie. I is always Skipper. And then Daddy gots to be Ken."

Rachel looked at her boyfriend, amused, "You usually play Barbie, Joe?"

Joey smiled sheepishly at her, "She has the most clothes! When I was growing up I always had to play Ken, because I had seven sisters! Mishi actually lets me be Barbie!" He pouted at her, looking at her with wide innocent eyes, asking her to understand.

"A girl after my own heart," Rachel teased, bursting into a laugh. Joey blushed, "I think it's sweet, honey, that you care so much about clothes and fashion. I can rest easy knowing you'll listen when I talk about my job!" She laughed and Joey glowered slightly at the sound.

He grumbled, not at all happy that he'd been caught out, but pleased the ordeal had put a smile on Rachel's face. A little embarrassment was a small price to pay for her beautiful smile. Still, feeling a need to defend himself, he added, "I'm all man!" he made a fist and punched the air in what he felt was a very manly way. "I'll show you!" he exclaimed, pointing at her challengingly, daring her to defy him.

Rachel ran a hand across his back, kissing his cheek and nodding soothingly, "Oh, trust me," she grinned, appeasing him, "I know all about how much of man you are. But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to show me again, later," she teased, running a hand through his hair.

Joey beamed proudly, easily catching the seductive note in her tone. He might not be the brightest, but when it came to matters of sex, he was more intuitive than most people. Content he had successfully saved his reputation, he turned towards Michelle who was in the process of marrying Barbie and Ken, without the assistance of either her aunt or uncle.

Out of the blue, Michelle wondered, "Uncle Joey, is you married to Aunt Rachel? You guyes kisses like Barbie and Ken do when they getses married."

"Uh, I, um," Joey stuttered, not sure how to respond, not wanting to offend Rachel, or offer Michelle an answer she wouldn't understand. He looked desperately to Rachel to save him.

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and explained, "Joey and I are – um, special friends – right now, sweetie, we're not married. That means we really care about one another and we like spending time together, but we're not ready to get married to each other. "

Joey nodded in silent agreement with her response, mumbling, while looking at her hopefully, "Maybe someday?" She grinned in response, enjoying the thought. Their relationship may be young, but the fact he already saw a future with her comforted her, especially given his rather fickle behaviour in the past.

Michelle was puzzled by Rachel's response, but seemed content to let it go and pursue another line of questioning, "Is Monica Daddy's spesal friend?"

This time, Rachel joined Joey as he looked on in horror. It was one thing to tell Michelle about their own relationship, but explaining Monica and Chandler's, especially when they weren't sure of that status themselves, was a whole other thing. It was obvious they had both developed feelings for one another, but they'd want to explain that to Michelle in their own way.

Thankfully Rachel and Joey were spared answering the question when Chandler entered the room, announcing to Joey and Rachel, "Dinner's ready, guys!" Turning to Michelle he continued, explaining, "You're gonna sit with us for dinner tonight, okay, honey? Monica made you something special, too." Michelle nodded with childish exuberance, pleased that she would be a 'big girl' and eat with the adults.

After addressing his daughter, Chandler returned his attention to Joey and Rachel, looking for a response from them and seeming a little bewildered at the semi-horrified expressions frozen on their faces.

"Coming!" Rachel and Joey chorused a moment later, their tones overly bright, hoping to alleviate his suspicion. Chandler looked at them slightly skeptically for a moment, but was quick to brush it off. He was in too good of a mood, thanks to his reunion with Monica, to really pay attention to anything that might be amiss. He turned back toward the table where Monica was sitting, the smile returning to his face.

Joey suddenly seemed to realize that Chandler's announcement meant that the food was ready and he stood up eagerly, happy that they'd finally (though it had only been less than half an hour) get to eat. As Michelle bounded past him towards the table, Joey scooped up her under his arm, ignoring her giggly requests to be let down.

As they walked, towards the table, Joey, still toting a giggling Michelle, turned to Rachel with wide eyes, whispering conspiratorially, "That was awkward!"

xx

Shortly after they'd all finished dinner, Phoebe burst through the door. Tiredly, she dragged her feet towards the couch and plopped onto it. Only after she was seated did she look around her.

Chandler who was sitting on the chair adjacent to the couch, with an arm around Monica and Michelle on his lap, shot her a sympathetic look.

When Michelle saw her honourary Aunt, she jumped up, and bounded towards her, "Hey, Auntie Pheebs!"

"You okay Pheebs?" Chandler wondered, "You look beat! Are you hungry? Monica made dinner, there's some leftovers in the fridge, if you want."

"That'd be great, thanks! I'm starving," she agreed, rubbing her pregnant stomach, before looking at Chandler knowingly, and shifting her gaze to Monica. "So this is Monica, huh? Nice to meet you," she smirked. Monica blushed as she returned the greeting. Phoebe seemed to know about her… she wondered what Chandler had said about her to Phoebe? Her blush deepened as she recalled her irrational jealousy a few days prior.

Monica watched as Phoebe studied her, sizing up her best friend's choice of girlfriend. "Err, I'll go heat up that food for you, Phoebe," Monica offered sheepishly, wanting to get away from the awkward moment.

As soon as Monica left, Phoebe turned to Chandler and whispered, "She's hot, Chandler!"

Chandler blushed furiously, quickly glancing in Monica's direction to make sure she hadn't heard, hissing, "Pheebs!"

Joey, who had overheard the statement, grinned carnally at the lesbian scenario that immediately filled his mind, "Yeah baby!" Chandler quickly fixed a glare on Joey, and he amended, with a sheepish shrug, "No, baby."

Grinning at her friends, Phoebe tucked a blonde wisp of hair behind her ear, and shrugged, "What's the big deal? So, Chandler scored a hottie."

Chandler blushed again, but this time he seemed to look a little proud in spite of it, "Yeah?"

"And," Phoebe continued, "She seems really nice, too."

The others nodded in agreement, and Chandler mumbled absently, "She is."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than Monica returned to the room carefully balancing a plate of food, and carrying cutlery. Handing Phoebe the plate, Monica said, "I hope it's warm enough. If not let me know and I'll heat it up some more." She plumped up the pillow behind Phoebe, before continuing, "Be careful! You don't want to get crumbies everywhere!"

Phoebe looked at Chandler with a raised eyebrow. He just shrugged. "Thanks, Monica" Phoebe said appreciatively, "It was very generous of you to do this! I can see why Chandler was going so crazy over you!" At this comment, Chandler's head snapped up, and he glared at Joey who shrugged elaborately, as if to say 'I didn't know it was a secret, besides, I tell her everything.' Phoebe continued, "…My feet are killing me. First chasing after Michelle all afternoon, then having to stand up at work… ugh, being pregnant sucks."

Michelle looked up from where she had been snuggled between her two aunts, talking to Rachel excitedly about the pony Rachel had owed as a little girl. Tilting her head curiously at Phoebe, she wondered, "How much longer is you gonna be plegant, Auntie Pheebs?"

Smiling at the little girl, Phoebe explained, "Not sure, sweetie. The babies could want to come out anytime, now. They're supposed to come in two months, but they might come early."

Michelle looked at her with wide eyes, "Wow, two months! That's a long, long, long time!" She pouted, "You still can't play with me 'til then, 'cause your tummy is getting too big, right, Auntie Pheebs?"

Phoebe shook her head, "Of course I'll be able to play with you, sweetie, I just can't bend over very well, or pick you up."

Michele frowned at this, but tried to look happy anyway, "Okay."

Attempting to make her feel better, Phoebe suggested, "Hey, I'm sure Monica and Rachel will want to play girl stuff with you, maybe you should ask them!"

Michelle nodded eagerly, at the prospect, telling her Aunt, "Auntie Rachel haded a pony when she was little! And Monica knowses how to does French braids!"

Phoebe looked mock-stunned, "Wow that's cool. Guess you don't need me, then, huh?"

Michelle giggled and shook her head and hugged her, though her little arms barely spanned Phoebe's stomach. "No! You is the coolest, bestest Auntie, ever," she protested.

"Hey!" Rachel complained, only half teasingly, "What about me?"

Bestowing an angelic smile upon her second aunt, Michelle explained, "You is the funnest, prettiest Auntie, ever." Chandler laughed at his daughter's antics. For a three-year-old Mishi was certainly clever; with all of her three-years of wisdom, she had played her aunts perfectly, wrapping both of them around her little finger. Chandler paused to consider he should probably be the last to laugh; Michelle had him worse than all the others combined.

xx

Stretching her arms, Phoebe yawned, and pointed at Michelle who had fallen asleep on the couch next to her half-an hour ago, "I think she's got the right idea. It's getting late. As much as I enjoyed getting to know you guys," she smiled at Monica and Rachel, "A pregnant woman needs her rest."

The others nodded in agreement and moved to help her. With Joey's assistance she was able to get up from her perch on the couch. She hugged her friends goodbye, including Monica and Rachel, reassuring the latter of her promise that they'd go clothes shopping for her future nieces and nephews soon.

As soon as Phoebe was out the door, Rachel caught Monica's gaze, and could see in her roommate's eyes, though she was clearly trying and failing to hide it, that she wanted time alone with Chandler. She had been eying him all evening, laughing at his jokes, even when the others didn't. Rachel smiled. It was cute.

"I should probably get going, too," she explained, "I've got an early meeting tomorrow."

Joey looked at her, upset, "You don't wanna stay the night at my place?" He pouted, crossing his arms petulantly.

Rachel shook her head, "You know that's not it, sweetie. My place is closer to work. You know how much I hate getting up early in the mornings!" Joey nodded and shivered; saying she wasn't a morning person was a huge understatement, "You're welcome to come home with me, though, if you like." She smiled flirtingly at him and he grinned back.

"Can't say no to that!"

Rachel looked pleadingly at her roommate, "You don't mind if Joey stays over, do you, Mon?"

Monica grimaced slightly, the idea of hearing her best friend and her boyfriend in the next room not appealing to her, but shook her head anyway. Who was she to deny Rachel's happiness? "Nah, I don't mind, so long as things are… quiet… when I get home and am trying to sleep," she smiled cheekily at her roommate.

Rachel nodded eagerly, "No problem. Seeya at home, then. Night!"

Monica and Chandler watched as the couple exited, bouncing 'good nights' back and forth. They grinned nervously at one another once they were alone, not quite sure how to proceed. Monica made the first move, getting up, and sitting on his lap in the chair he was occupying.

Chandler cuddled against her for a moment, before realizing his daughter was still in the room, asleep on the couch. Smiling sheepishly, he asked, "Mind if I put Michelle to bed, first?"

Monica shook her head with a smile, "By all means. I'll be waiting."

Chandler grinned and kissed her temple, "I'll just be a few minutes." He walked over the couch, and knelt down by Michelle, picking her up in his arms and carrying her towards her room. She woke in his arms, yawning and mumbling, "Where is I?"

"You were sleeping on the couch, sweetie. It's past your bedtime."

Michelle stretched and argued through a yawn, "I is not tired!" Chandler laughed, knowing that wasn't true. He didn't bother arguing, this was a regular part of their nightly routine. He quickly changed her into her pajamas and pulled back her pink duvet, sliding her into the 'big girl' bed, she'd gotten earlier that year.

"Where's Shell?" Michelle mumbled, sleepily. Chandler glanced around him, before grabbing Michelle's stuffed turtle from where it had fallen on the floor, handing it to her. She sleepily wrapped her arms around it, her eyes stubbornly fluttering, as she fought sleep. Chandler stroked her hair away from her face and kissed her forehead, whispering, "Goodnight."

Before he could leave, Michelle grabbed his hand, and begged, "Read 'Goodnight Moon,' daddy!" Chandler smiled at her, and agreed, knowing that before he got two pages into the book that she'd be fast asleep.

He pulled the book from the shelf, and sat on the bed next to her, beginning to read. Michelle cuddled against his side, still clutching tightly to Shell. As predicted, Michelle was asleep within minutes. Chandler glanced towards the doorway, realizing Monica was standing there, watching them. He gestured for her to come into the room, and she did so, reluctantly. He squeezed her hand, when she within reach, then leaned to kiss Michelle on the forehead one last time. Monica smiled and repeated the action. Chandler took Monica's hand and guided them out of the room, flicking off the lights and turning on Mishi's nightlight, as he did so.

Once the door was shut behind them, Monica told him, "You are so great with her. Saying you were an amazing Daddy was the understatement of the year."

He smiled, pleased with the compliment, "I hope she feels the same way."

"She does. Trust me on this one. The way you two act around one another… it leaves no doubt in my mind."

Chandler pulled her towards the couch, pulling her onto his lap, hugging her to him, then kissing her sweetly in thanks.

Monica ran a hand across his cheek. "I would have been an idiot not to want this," she whispered, referring to being a part of his life, and Michelle's.

Chandler chose to take the comment more suggestively, "I am quite the legend," he murmured.

Monica laughed, "I was talking about being a part of yours and Michelle's lives. But _that_ was fun, too. You're a really good kisser."

"Well I have kissed over four women," he bragged, jokingly.

Monica grinned, pulling him close to her, again. They quickly found themselves reclining against the couch, their limbs entangling as they kissed. Their hands skated across warm skin and clothing that suddenly felt too bulky. Monica felt her entire body tingle as Chandler's cool hand caressed the warm skin of her back visible in the gap between her shirt and jeans.

Chandler felt his pulse race at the sound of her gasp. Needing to hear more, he placed his hands around her small waist, pulling her hips closer towards him.

He groaned, and murmured apprehensively, "Are you okay? I haven't done this in a while… I-"

Monica was quick to shush him, placing her lips back against his, muting anything else he may have said, "How can you have doubts? God, Chandler, that was…" she trailed off as she tried to locate a suitable word, "spectacular," she finally finished.

He allowed himself a small smile. "I'm a man," he explained with a self-depreciating half-smirk, "Wondering if women like us is what we do. Besides, I've only ever had a very small number of women ever show interest… and those who did, always left. Why would they if I was so great?"

"Their loss was my gain. I'm glad they left, otherwise you wouldn't be here with me. Where you belong." The possessive note in her voice sent a shot of adrenaline straight through him, his breath catching, he suddenly felt lighter than air.

All thoughts of the past instantaneously flew from his mind as her lips melded to his again. He allowed himself to become lost in her in a way he hadn't allowed himself to in years. In that moment, the feel of her soft lips pressing against his, shallow at it might seem, was all he needed to know he wanted to be with her, for now. Forever, if she was willing.

He closed his eyes, allowing thoughts of her to drift lazily across his mind and engulf him. Everything they had shared only made him feel closer to her. He concentrated on the feel of her lips against the taut skin of his neck, and shivered.

Feeling him quake against her, Monica whispered, "Cold?"

"Not with you here," he whispered back, a hint of a smile on his face. The feel of her weight pressing down on him was warm and comforting, her presence and open displays of affection even more so.

The moment the words were out of his mouth, her lips were pressed against his neck again, her soft breaths against him warming him to his very soul. Needing to feel her lips soft against his, he scooted down, shifting his weight so her face was directly in front of his. He smiled into her eyes.

Before he could lean closer, Monica ran a finger over his face, across a closed eyelid. Her words slightly panted, she said, "You have the most gorgeous eyes, I've ever seen. I'm not sure whether they're blue or they're green, or somewhere in between, but whatever colour they are, I wanna get lost in them forever." He looked uncomfortable and Monica felt him tense against her.

Monica looked up at him in surprise, "No one's ever told you that before?" He shrugged again, and looked even more uncomfortable than before. Suddenly realizing why, Monica guessed, "Mary Angela did, didn't she? Sorry… I hope I didn't bring up a painful memory?" She stroked his hair in a motherly way, as if trying to ease his pain.

Some of the tension in his body left, as he nodded, "Yeah. She was the only one who ever has, though. She used to say Michelle had my eyes; that we both had beautiful eyes. She thought her eyes were 'boring brown.' It's not painful, just awkward to think about it, when I'm here with you." He was silent for a moment, "The two of you are so different."

"I hope so," she smiled, stroking his chest, her fingers tracing abstract patterns. She could feel him smile against her skin, where his head buried in the space between her neck and shoulder. She thought she heard him mumble something about her smelling sexy, but brushed it off, as her imagination. The very notion that he thought she was sexy, though, sent a wave of confidence crashing over her. Inching her fingers towards the buttons on his shirt, she undid a couple slowly, catching his gaze as she did so, trying to gauge his reaction. She found it almost overwhelming how easily she could read him. His expression was accepting, with a hint of cheekiness, which only served to propel her further forward.

She licked her suddenly dry lips. They were soon met by his, slanting over them. Her hand continued its meandering path, stroking along the hem of his shirt where his shirt buttons were, teasingly moving close enough to the skin that he could feel the heat of her fingers, before sliding away. Through their kiss she could feel his deep breaths in anticipation of the contact, but it never came. He pushed his chest outward, silently begging her to touch him, but she was quicker than him, and pulled away before contact was made.

Frustrated, Chandler gently bit her ear, before moaning into it, "How much longer are you gonna tease? I'm going to spontaneously combust if you don't give me _something_. Please."

Smiling triumphantly down at him, from where she was now straddling his waist, she countered, teasingly, "I dunno, I think it's kinda hot. I like it when your voice gets that pleading tone to it."

He merely grumbled in response, too caught up in the reaction she was invoking in his body to think of a coherent response. Instead, he decided, revenge would speak louder than words.

While she continued to tease him mercilessly, he took the opposite approach, his hands sliding up her thighs, and around her butt, squeezing it gently. He felt a surge of satisfaction as she groaned, and faltered in her movements. Using the moment of weakness to his advantage, he pulled her body down, flush against his, her unwilling fingers pressing his chest. Monica groaned in pleasure, as she felt his body react against hers. The feel of it sent a satisfying rush of blood coursing from head to toe.

He sighed contently into her neck, murmuring, the sole thought that assaulted him, "Finally."

It was Monica's turn to reprimand him, "You're a cheater, Chandler Bing!" The feel of her tongue tracing his ear reassured him she wasn't upset, despite the tone of her voice.

He tongued her neck, kissing a trail to her ear, muttering, "You don't seem all that upset."

"How can I be, when you're doing _that_," the last syllable was more of a moan, than a word, as she arched her back, leaning into his touch. His hands were tracing the curves of her hips and breasts with searing passion, that somehow managed to seem delicate at the same time. The strange combination was intoxicating, and Monica wondered how she had gone through her life until this point without it.

She moved her hand deeper into his shirt, stretching the material. She smiled as Chandler's hands ceased to wander her body, griping tightly onto her hips as she provided the contact he'd been craving, pleased with the effect she was having on him. Never before had a man reacted to a touch from her in such an extraordinary way. She felt sexy and desirable in his arms, and she thoroughly enjoyed the sensation. His groans and little noises of appreciation were more encouraging than anything he could have said.

Her hands wandered as far as they could within the small opening the unbuttoned portion of his shirt allowed. Needing more, she undid two more buttons. Chandler hummed in appreciation, as she stroked the skin beneath the material, leaning to kiss it as well. The feel of her lips against his bare skin sent him dizzy.

The slight shock of the soft wetness of her tongue against his skin sent a warning signal shooting through his mind. It felt _too_ good. They weren't ready for this, yet. It had been years for him, since being involved in this kind of intimacy and they'd only been a couple a grand total of five hours. He gently grasped her wrists, pulling them out of his shirt and kissing the back of each hand, explaining gently, "It's getting late."

The hurt that pooled in her eyes, stabbed through his heart, and he quickly reassured her, "It's not that I don't want you. God, I am _so_ attracted to you. I – It's, we aren't ready. I want our first time to be mind-blowing. It wouldn't be, like this."

Her protests were weak at best. She fixed a pleading stare on him, mumbling feebly, "But I want you."

He agreed, "I know, baby, but we have something to look forward to this way." She pouted, slightly, obviously not entirely buying the argument. Chandler stroked her sides gently, as they moved so they were sitting next to one another on the couch. He leaned to kiss her forehead, promising, "This isn't a cop out, trust me. If anything, it's a sacrifice. I want us to wait until we can do it right."

Her eyes darkening slightly in resignation, she sighed, "I know you're right. It's just… frustrating. I feel all tingly and about ready to burst. Coming back down from that high the hard way sucks."

He shrugged in apology, fighting away the inward smile at the thought of how he made her feel, "I _am_ sorry, and I'll make it up to you, I promise." He kissed her hair gently.

A twinkle sparkling in her eye, she assured him, "I'll hold you to that." Standing up, on only slightly wobbly legs, to her credit, she grabbed her purse from the coffee table, slinging it over her shoulder. She moved towards him, and their lips met in a quick, but meaningful goodbye kiss.

"I'll call you," he promised.

"That better not mean you won't call!" Monica glared at him teasingly.

He returned the teasing glare but answered sincerely, "Never."

They exchanged one last smile, and another quick kiss, then Monica disappeared out the door. Chandler stared at it for a moment before sinking into the couch, banging his head against the back of it several times, groaning in dissatisfaction.

xx

_Hope this chapter was worth the little bit of a longer wait than usual! On the bright side, it's also longer than most of the chapters posted so far, and has lots of romantic mush (that's a good thing, right? :P) for both Joey/Rach and Mondler. If that's not your kind of thing, I might as well warn you that you won't be pleased with the next few chapters :P  
_

_I was hoping I'd have this done yesterday, but Halloween stuff got in the way! I'm always the pumpkin carver in this house; that's what you get for being dubbed 'the creative one.' I also spent a good portion of the night handing out candy and watching Halloween specials like a 12-year-old :P I hope you all had a fun Halloween, too :)  
_

_University is kind of hitting a busy point, so if the next chapter is a bit slow in coming, you'll know why; I'm off reading dozens of pages some (most likely boring) textbook, or writing an essay or something I'd much less rather be doing than writing this. It is coming though, I promise. I won't let the procrastinator in me take hold :) As always reviews motivate, me though, and will bring it on quicker :D  
_


	8. Chapter 8

**Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Eight**

xx

"Are the two of you hungry?" Monica wondered, "It's almost lunchtime." She shot pointed glances at Chandler and Michelle who were sitting in her living room. Monica smiled to herself when they nodded identically. In the week since she'd known the two of them, Monica had come to realize just how much Michelle took after her father; a reason to love them both, she decided.

"I wants choco' chip cookies!" Michelle exclaimed.

"That sounds like dessert, sweetie," Monica told her. "How about this," she proposed, "after we all have a nice healthy lunch we'll all make some chocolate chip cookies together. How does that sound?"

Michelle agreed excitedly, "Daddy never makeses choco' chip cookies!"

Monica smiled at her exuberance and kissed her hair, whispering conspiratorially in Michelle's direction, "That's because he doesn't know how!"

"Hey!" Chandler complained, "I may be over here on the couch, but I can still hear you!" Monica and Michelle both giggled at him.

Monica shot him a questioning look. "Are you trying to tell me you think you know how to bake cookies?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "I've seen some of your confections, honey, and I think it's best you leave the cooking to me in this relationship. Those things you called brownies, well, they're probably best left without description."

Michelle twisted up her face in disgust, "They was yucky!"

Monica laughed. "See?" she offered as proof, "You couldn't even convince your three-year-old to eat them and they're chockfull of sugar!"

"Haha, I can't cook, you can. Very funny," he muttered deadpan, the smile on his face letting her know he wasn't wholly serious. "Joey liked them!" he countered.

"Joey bragged about eating cherry scented soap and liking _that_," she teased, "Are you sure you want to brag about him liking your baking?"

"Uncle Joey ated a whole thing of tootpaste," Michelle interjected helpfully, in Monica's defence. Monica nodded, and stroked her hair maternally in thanks. Michelle seemed pleased.

"What's up with the two of you ganging up on me?" he complained, "You're my daughter, and you're my girlfriend!" he pointed at Michelle and Monica respectively, "You're both supposed to be on _my_ side!" They both laughed at him. "And, fine, maybe Joey isn't the best judge of taste," he conceded. "I just want you to know I can cook some stuff! You just do it so much better than I ever could!" he told Monica.

"That's sweet, honey," Monica told him, "even if I'm only the winner by default."

"Hey! I compliment your cooking and you insult mine? You're going to pay for that later," he promised teasingly.

"I'm counting on it," she told him with a grin. "You may not have much cooking talent, but you are good at some things!" she raised her eyebrows suggestively, "Now, come on, you two, sit up at the table for lunch, we're having sandwiches! I don't think even your Daddy could mess that one up, huh, Mishi?" She giggled and shook her head. Chandler shot them both a slightly sour look.

"Can I haves peanut butters and jelly?" she asked Monica, after she had stopped laughing.

"Of course you can, sweetie," Monica told her.

xx

"What _is_ that?" Monica laughed, pointing at Chandler's cookie dough creation. As she had promised Michelle, after lunch Monica had whipped up a batch of the little girl's favourite cookies. They were currently in the process of molding the dough into various shapes.

Chandler looked at her, a little offended, pointing at his shape indignantly, "It's a star! How can you not see it?! It's a good star!"

Monica squinted and stared at the shape, attempting to see what he saw in it. "Okay. Sure," she agreed, "If I squint like this, I can kinda see it!"

Chandler shot her a look. "Shut up, Ms. 'My Unicorn Shaped Cookie is Perfect!' You know that's going to melt into a big blob, right?" he teased.

"Yeah, surprisingly, I do! I am a chef and I know how baking works! But at least mine looks better right now!" she explained. Chandler looked down at his star grumpily.

"Maybe I should mold my cookie into the shape of your face," he countered, "then it'd be the most beautiful, automatically!"

"That's sweet, but are you sure your artistic talents are up to the challenge?" she teased, "That would not be a pretty picture when my face melted in the oven, anyway!"

Chandler grinned at her charmingly. "I wouldn't mind. Your face would be beautiful no matter what! Besides, any deformity would be unimportant, when I got to take a bite out of your head!" he laughed.

Monica laughed, "What a nice mental image."

Chandler grinned back, and kissed the side of her head. "Would you rather I bite somewhere else?" he wondered cheekily.

"Looks at mines, Daddy!" Michelle interrupted with a giggle, waving her cookie dough covered hands in his direction.

"Wow, it's pretty sweetheart!" he appeased her, glancing at the shape she had created. It just looked like a weird curved blob to him. "What is it, sweetie?" he asked tentatively.

Monica answered for her, "It's a rainbow, of course!" Michelle nodded eagerly.

"It's gotses no colourses though!" Michelle informed them, as if they hadn't known, "Rainbows is apposed to be pretty colourses."

Chandler looked at Monica questioningly, whispering, "How did _you_ know that? I had no idea. I'm her father, I've known Mishi her whole life, you've known her a week and a half!"

"I'm more observant than you, sweetie!" she teased, kissing his cheek, consolingly, "You didn't know her last cookie was Shell, either, and she's had that stuffed turtle since she was a baby, and sleeps with it every night!"

"Stupid turtle," he muttered under his breath, before adding seriously, "You're great with her, you know. If I didn't know better, I would think you were a mommy, already!"

Monica grinned at him pleased with the compliment. She couldn't help but wonder if anyone were to look into the apartment at that moment… would think they were watching a family? Michelle did kind of look like both of them…. she had her dark hair, Chandler's eyes. The thought of being linked to her in that way sent a warmth shooting through Monica's heart.

"Well," Monica explained, pushing away her previous thoughts, and concentrating on responding to Chandler, "Phoebe told me I was in a past life!" She frowned as she tried to recall exactly what Chandler's eccentric friend had told her, "She said in my last life I had 16 kids!"

Chandler laughed, "That sounds like Phoebe. I don't think you wanna know about any my past lives according to her! Some of her stories are downright frightening!" he glanced at Michelle who was still dutifully creating cookies on the cookie sheets that he and Monica had all but abandoned.

"You can tell me!" Monica claimed, chiding him, "Are you chicken?"

"What, no! I just don't wanna!" he asserted, backing away from her, carefully.

"Stop being a baby, and tell me!" Monica grabbed a chunk of dough and threw it at him.

"Oh, and throwing cookie dough on me is the mature way to handle things!" he complained, sarcastically.

"Just tell me!" Monica complained, "there may be something in it for you…" she kissed the line of his jaw seductively, careful to make sure Michelle was still engrossed in cookie making, as she did. Chandler groaned and looked torn.

"Okay, okay, fine!" He relented, "I just want you to know you're a devil woman! That was pure evil. But I'm not doing this because you seduced me into it! I just wanted you to know…" Monica smirked. Winning was winning. "In one I was supposedly a clown, and another a lion slash elephant trainer." He grimaced, "That's all I'm going to say. Trust me, you don't want to know any details."

Monica grinned, suppressing her laugh, "You a clown? That doesn't sound so ridiculous to me!"

xx

Ross entered his sister's apartment, greeted by the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He immediately headed towards the counter where the cookies were laying on a cooling rack, intending to snag one.

He looked at the cookies, calling to his sister, "What's up with these cookies, Mon? Why are they all, uh, you know, weird shapes?"

"Michelle and Chandler were here, we were hanging out and she mentioned she liked chocolate chip cookies, and so we thought it'd be a fun little activity for her to help make them. She was so cute. And Chandler's so awesome with her! They had to leave, though, Chandler's mother's in town on a book tour and wanted to spend the evening with them." Ross looked at his sister, watching as her radiant mood mellowed to melancholy as she explained they had to leave.

"Nora's around?" Ross asked, surprised, "Does Rachel know? Surprised she's not over at his apartment begging for an autograph!"

Monica shook her head. "She's spending the night 'bonding' with Joey, is what she told me. Think he's taking her to a play or something?" she told Ross carefully, not wanting to upset him.

Ross' eyes darkened, but he opted to ignore the elephant in the room, asking as casually as he could muster, "So how are things with you and Chandler?"

Monica shot him a warning look, "Ross. You said you were okay with this, when we asked you earlier."

"I am!" he told her defensively. "It's another relationship in this happy little group I take issue with," he muttered, under his breath. Out loud he added, "Trust me, I'm so happy for you guys. I love both of you and I know you couldn't have found a better guy."

"Really?" Monica asked touched, "I'm glad, big brother because I think this may be it, for both of us. And, of course, Michelle. I miss them, already and they've been gone, like, two hours. Is that pathetic, or what?"

Ross smiled and shook his head. "You're, practically glowing, Mon. You really love them, don't you?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "I really do! Not sure if he's ready to hear it, though. Pretty sure we both feel it… there's just so much, ugh, stuff!"

"Well, that - that clears it up, then!" Ross muttered sarcastically.

Monica shot him a sardonic look, and clarified, "There's his ex-wife, and of course Michelle. And we haven't even slept together, yet!"

"Ugh, Monica! File that under 'stuff I don't want to know about the two of you!' I may be cool with the two of you hooking up, but there's still a line!"

"Sorry, sorry," Monica apologized, "didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm just… frustrated."

Ross made another face. "Didn't need to know that, either!"

"Not sexually frustrated, bonehead," Monica snapped, shooting a glare in his direction, "Frustrated about what do with this entire situation! I love him and Michelle so much. I don't want to scare him away by doing something premature."

"Look, Mon, I may not be his best friend, anymore, or a gossip like Rachel," his eyes seemed slightly murky at the mention of her name, "but Chandler's still said some stuff to me. Trust me, saying you love him isn't premature. He feels it, too."

"Really?" Monica looked at him suspiciously.

"Really," he confirmed, "Hey, how about next Saturday, I take Michelle out from under your feet? I have Ben, they could have a little play date thing? You could get some time to talk to Chandler, alone?"

"That's sweet of you to offer, Ross, but Joey's parents are taking her for the evening next Saturday. They haven't seen her in a while, since just after they moved back to Queens from LA. They wanted to hang out with her. Me and Chandler are going out with Joey and Rach for the night."

"Oh," Ross muttered despondently.

"How are you doing with that, by the way?" Monica questioned gently, hoping Ross would take her up on her offer to talk about it. She figured she was his only real chance at having a neutral outlet. He couldn't talk to Rachel herself, and Chandler was Joey's best friend. His ex-wife and her new wife probably weren't a viable option, and neither were his dino-geek colleagues. That left only her.

Ross sighed and shot her a grateful look, "I don't know. I hate seeing them together. I just want to strangle Joey. He's a nice guy, though… does that make me a bad person?"

"No, sweetie. You're just hurting. You're upset that she's moving on, and you're not. But," she added sternly, "remember, it was you who cheated on her. You can't very well to expect her to forgive you as easily as you seem to want her to. You hurt her really badly, too, and in all honesty, I think you're lucky she was happy to remain your friend after what you did to her."

Ross glared at her petulantly for a moment, "I thought you agreed with me that we were on a break and that she was being unreasonable refusing to see my side of things!"

"Ross, we are not going into this again! It's been done to death! Look, the bottom line is that you and Rachel are over, and you have to move on. Shifting blame isn't going to help either of you, and I'm not getting stuck in the middle, again!"

"Yeah, I guess," Ross mumbled miserably, "I just thought we'd end up together, in the end."

"And I did, too, for a while. But now Rachel's moving on, you should be happy for her. She's with a great guy, who genuinely cares about her. Joey may be a little immature, but he has a heart of gold. Better him than Paolo."

"Yeah," Ross relented, "Paolo was an ass, cheating on her and all, with that girl at the massage parlour! I should have looked into having him deported!"

"You did the same thing," Monica reminded him sharply. Seeing Ross was about to retort, she added quickly, "Don't even _say_ the word break, buddy." Ross merely gave her a sour look in response. "Stop with the hard-done-by-me expressions and start moving on!" Her tone softening, she added, "Hey, this might interest you! I spoke with Julie a couple weeks ago. We bumped into one another at Bloomingdale's, and we met up for lunch a few days ago… she asked about you, you know."

Ross looked curious, underneath his gloomy expression. "She did? What did – uh, what did she say?" he wondered, trying to sound nonchalant. He was unable to keep his curiosity from seeping into his voice.

"She wanted to know how you were. When I mentioned you and Rachel had broken up, she was so bright and friendly about it. If I had to guess, I'd say she's still a little hung up on you! She's coming by on Thursday night, to pick up some of the old cat toys I dug up when you two were going to get a cat. Remember that? She just got the cutest kitten. You should drop by, she was strongly hinting she'd like to see you."

"Yeah," Ross nodded, a faint reminiscent smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I think I just might. Julie and I had a lot in common, and she was pretty amazing… maybe it's for the best."

"Good," Monica praised his decision, "Look, just so you know… Rachel's worried about you, and how you feel about her relationship. She wants you to like Joey, and not resent her. She's not expecting a miracle. She knows the you guys aren't going to be the best of friends, but she wants you two to get along. And if Chandler's going to be around me a lot, it'd be important to me, too, since Joey's his best friend… Can you try to be civil around them?"

"I _will_ try…" Ross nodded, all but a trace of melancholy gone from his expression. "This thing with Julie has really put me in a better mood. Are you sure she wanted to see me?" he wondered insecurely.

xx

"C'mon, Mon!" Chandler whined, "This is like the millionth store we've been to! Are you sure she wouldn't like that skirt from Bloomingdale's? Or the bracelet from Nordstrom? Michelle's getting bo-ored!" The process of shopping for a gift for Rachel's birthday had been much more draining than he had anticipated. Monica's competitiveness hadn't been helping. She was insisting on getting the best possible gift, something Rachel would at least _consider_ not returning.

Monica laughed, "When you say 'Michelle's bored' do you mean 'she's bored,' or 'I'm bored?' She seems to be having fun, to me." She wiggled the hand Michelle was holding. Michelle was between them, holding onto Monica's left hand, and Chandler's right. Every so often she'd jump, and expect them to swing her. Even as both Monica and Chandler got tired of it, Michelle still seemed to find great amusement in it.

"Okay, fine," he relented, "I'm bored! But," he amended before she could criticize, "spending time with you is worth anything!" He smiled sweetly at her and Monica grinned back pleased with the sentiment. "All of the gifts we picked were fine! Can we just pick one and go home?"

"Just a few more stores, sweetie," Monica told him, reaching up to his cheek. "Hey how about Neiman Marcus?"

Chandler shot her a look, "I know you want to get Rach the perfect gift, sweetie, but do you want to bankrupt yourself, too?" Monica brushed him off with a wave of her hand and they continued down the street.

As they passed FAO Schwarz, Michelle's eyes widened as her stare followed the building, eyeing the rows upon rows of toys inside. Seeing a window of opportunity, to save his arm (which was about to fall off from all the swinging) and a way to get out of shopping for Rachel's gift, Chandler figured he could kill two birds with one stone. "Hey, Michi!" he suggested, oh-so-casually, pointing at the store display, "Check out that Barbie! She has a pet unicorn!"

As he had expected, Michelle took that as permission and pointed at the store as well, "We goes inside, Daddy?"

"Sure, sweetie. You don't mind, do you, Monica honey? She's been so good all day, being dragged from store to store. Maybe you could go get Rachel's gift and meet us back here?" Chandler wondered innocently, fighting away the urge to smirk.

As they followed Michelle who was skipping happily towards the entrance, Monica slapped Chandler's butt teasingly, and growled under her breath, but loud enough for Chandler to hear, "I don't believe you, Chandler Bing! Using your daughter like that! If you think that this is going to get you out of helping me, you're mistaken! I'm coming with, _then_ we'll go get Rachel's gift!"

Chandler quickly erased the frown that had overcome his face, plastering on a false smile, "Sure, sweetie. But don't you think, it'd be more time efficient…" seeing her impatient expression, he finished, "If I shut up now?"

"Yes, I think that would be for the best," she agreed, lacing her hand through his with a smile, he squeezed her hand, and moved to hold open the door for Michelle, who was too small to push open the heavy door by herself. As soon as the way was clear, she immediately ran into the store. She faltered for a moment, deciding whether to head for the Barbies or the stuffed toys first. Briefly checking over her shoulder to make sure her father and Monica were following her, she bounded toward the plush toys.

"Look Daddy! Shellses' Daddy is here!" she called out joyously, indicating a monstrously large stuffed turtle.

"Yeah, sweetie," he agreed, "Maybe." Preempting the question he saw forming, he told her, "We're not taking him home, though." Michelle gave him a pouty look, so he explained rationally, "Look how big he is! You wouldn't have room for any more toys in your room! Do you want to get rid of all your Barbies?"

Michelle frowned at the thought and proposed, "He sleeps with me in mys bed!"

"Aw, what about Shell, then?" Chandler questioned sadly, "You can't sleep with two turtles at the same time and Shell would be very sad if you left him all by himself."

Michelle shook her head, pondering the dilemma briefly before making another proposal, "He stay in your room!" Chandler and Monica both laughed.

"No, sweetie. But, hey, how about this little guy?" he suggested, wiggling a plush tiger at his daughter, hoping to distract her. He shot Monica a frustrated look; she said nothing and shook her head before moving towards the end of the aisle, gesturing that she'd be right back. Chandler raised an eyebrow and watched her leave, turning to deal with Michelle again. Maybe dragging her out shopping all day, had been a bad idea… He was just as tired himself, having carried her most of the day, and was not really in the mood to deal with a tantrum.

"No," she said stubbornly, crossing her little arms petulantly.

"Hey, Michelle," Monica called to her, reappearing at the end of the aisle, a book in hand, "You want to come read this book with me?" She waved the talking Disney Princess book she was holding at her.

Michelle grinned at her and nodded, running towards her, immediately forgetting the turtle in an instant.

Chandler watched in awe as Monica took a seat on one of the little plastic children's chairs on display. It was no higher than a foot off the ground. After getting herself situated, Monica helped Michelle onto her lap and assisted her with 'reading' the book, along with the automated voice.

Getting a lump in his throat, Chandler moved to sit next to them on an equally tiny chair, wrapping his arm around both of them. He kissed Michelle on the head, thankful she had decided to behave, after all. He repeated the action on Monica, kissing her hair, then brushed the strands aside so he could whisper in her ear, "You're a miracle worker! How come she listens to you and not me?"

"Because I'm the fun one! I was born to be a Mommy, remember?" she reminded him.

"You won't let me forget," he teased, "Thank God for it, though! We were about to have an angry screaming child on our hands!"

"Nah, she's a good girl. She would have settled down eventually," Monica told him, brushing Michelle's dark braided pigtails away from her face. Michelle took no notice of either of the adults, though, and continued to 'read' her book, shifting on Monica's lap every once in awhile.

Chandler looked at her in mock-horror, "Don't tell me she's got you wrapped around her little finger, too! You were our last hope. She's already got me, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel."

Monica shook her head ruefully, "It's awful, isn't it? Five adults outsmarted by a toddler."

Chandler couldn't resist kissing her gently, "Only if awful means wonderful. I love that you guys get along so well. I wouldn't have it any other way. The two of you mean the world to me."

"I's done this book!" Michelle told them, "I's going to gets more." Monica and Chandler supervised her as she toddled down the aisle, inspecting the talking books in the displayer carefully, trying to decide which to take, before deciding one wasn't enough an lugging all of them back towards where Monica and Chandler were seated.

"Wow," Monica told her, "You're going to read all of those? You're going to be really smart by the time you finish all of those!"

Michelle nodded, helping herself back onto Monica's lap with a steadying hand from her father.

"Daddy says I's going to collez a'cause I is smart," Michelle informed her.

"I bet you will, sweetie," Monica told her, "You're definitely smart enough to go to college. Just give it a few years."

Chandler nodded. "Yeah, say about thirty?" he proposed, "Until then you can stay my little girl, right, Mishi?"

"Okay!" Michelle agreed eagerly. Both the adults laughed.

"So which one of these are we reading, Mishi?" Monica wondered, looking at the stack of books at her feet. Michelle browsed them, biting her lip, before eventually selecting Peter Pan and opening it, beginning to 'read.'

Just then a salesgirl walked down the aisle and spotted them, "Can I help you guys, or are you still browsing?"

Chandler shot her a quick smile, indicating Michelle. "I think she's still browsing. We may be here awhile," he laughed.

"Oh, that's no problem," the salesgirl informed them helpfully, "I'll just be over there, if you need me," she gestured to the opposite end of the store. "I don't usually say this kind of thing to customers, but you three make just the cutest little family!"

Chandler and Monica exchanged quick glances unnoticed by the salesgirl, who continued on, "Your daughter is just so cute! I hope the next one is just as cute!" she winked, explaining gleefully, "I saw you guys in the baby aisle, earlier. Don't worry, your little secret is safe with me!"

She apparently didn't notice their wide-eyed expressions and winked again, before waving to Michelle, who had finally looked up from her book to notice the stranger standing over them. "Bye cutie!" the salesgirl told her, and Michelle waved back exuberantly, pleased with being called cute, before going back to her book.

Monica and Chandler looked at one another in amazement. Chandler managed to squeak out, "Ba-baby aisle? I wasn't in the baby aisle! Were you?!"

"No," Monica managed, dragging out the syllable in such a way that made it clear she thought that fact was obvious. "Maybe she saw a couple that looked like us?" Monica offered rationally.

"Maybe. I mean it couldn't have been us! We haven't even… you know," he supplied, a deep blush crawling up his face.

"I know," she agreed, a slight smile on her face, "I think I would have remembered if we had."

"Right," his blush grew darker.

"Uh," Monica's face darkened to match his, "Um, I was wanting to know, anyway, I mean – I wanted to ask, how you felt about that, you know, issue?"

"Feel, um, about sex?" he whispered, so Michelle wouldn't hear, "In general, I feel good about it." He squeezed her hand and laughed, not sure how else to respond. It was either that, or blush deeper, and he was pretty sure his face had reached its maximum threshold for redness.

"No," Monica clarified with a hint of a smile, "I was, ah, talking about, uh, well, kids."

"I have a daughter who I love very, very much, Mon," he told her, oblivious to the question she was actually asking, "Of course I like kids."

Monica stared down at Michelle in her lap to avoid his gaze. "But when that, uh, salesgirl mentioned well, you know, you didn't seem all that pleased about the idea of ever having another one."

"She just caught me off guard, Mon. I'd love to have more kids. Someday," he stated carefully.

"That's good to know," she told him, leaning her head comfortably against his shoulder, "Very good to know."

xx

"Oh my God, what an exhausting day!" Chandler claimed, as he threw himself into the couch after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, "You two have worn me out!" Monica plopped down on the couch next to him and ran a hand through his hair and pecked him on the lips quickly.

"At least we got lots done before we go out with Joey and Rach tonight!" she told him, proud of their efficiency.

Chandler looked at her questionably. "You call buying a necklace for Rachel and spoiling my daughter 'getting lots done?'" he laughed. "You do know all of those _two_ things took us five hours of wandering up and down fifth avenue, right?"

"Trust me, sweetie, if you'd ever gone shopping for a gift for Rachel you would know that that is amazing, record-breaking time."

"And we gots Sarkle!" Michelle chimed in, trying to be helpful.

"We got what?" Chandler questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

She waved her new plush fish in answer. "Sarkle!" Michelle grumbled, not liking that she had to repeat herself.

Chandler and Monica both looked at her with raised eyebrows. It was Chandler who eventually deciphered what she meant, "Oh, you mean Sparkle, sweetie!"

"That's whats I said!" Michelle told him grouchily.

"Okay, honey," Monica intervened, preventing the temper tantrum she could see brewing. She patted the couch next to her. "Come bring Sparkle and sit here on the couch with us and we'll watch Alice in Wonderland," she gestured to the TV which was currently playing the VHS of the Disney movie, "together, okay?"

Michelle moved towards her dragging the plush toy behind her, purposefully climbing onto the couch between Monica and Chandler, so as to be the centre of attention to both of them.

"Ah, sweetie, your pigtail has come all undone. It's not braided, anymore," Monica told her, gesturing for the little girl to scoot into her lap, "C'mere and I'll fix it for ya."

Michelle obediently followed Monica's directions, letting her fiddle around with her hair.

"You should does Fench braids! You says you knows how, afore," Michelle reminded her.

"Yeah, let's do that!" Monica told her with a smile. "Chandler get me her hairbrush?" she instructed.

Chandler shot her a look, already moving to do as she asked, retorting cheekily, "Am I your slave, now?" Monica looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he relented as he disappeared into Michelle's room, "Because if you want me to be, I will!" He walked back out of the room and handed her the purple brush. She immediately began brushing out Mishi's dark hair, not causing the little girl to flinch even once.

Chandler watched the two of them with a impressed smile. Teasing, but curious, he asked Michelle, "Does Monica brush hair better than I do Michi?"

Michelle pondered her answer carefully before answering, "Nopes. Yous guys is the sames, you boths don't do owwies!"

Monica laughed. "How very diplomatic!" She tickled Michelle, whispering in her ear, "But you really like me best, right?"

"Whats is dipo-ma-kick?" Michelle wondered, looking to Monica for the answer.

"It means being nice to everyone," Monica told her, "It's a good thing."

"Okay," Michelle agreed, not really paying much attention to the answer to her own question; she was more interested in returning her attention to the Disney movie than learning new vocabulary words.

As Michelle immersed herself in Alice who was in the process of rapidly changing size inside a house, Monica French braided Michelle's hair, praising her for her ability to sit still.

When she was finished, Michelle was very pleased, "It lookses so cool! Thank you, Monica! Daddy does it so boring. I's bored of pigtails and reg'lar braids."

"Hey," Chandler complained, "I thought I was doing well to even know how to do a braid! Not many guys know how to do that!"

Michelle frowned at him, "But yous a Daddy, Daddies is apposed to know. Hows other girls like me goings to get their hairs did?"

"Mommies usually do that, sweetie. Remember how we talked about how we're a special family because we only have a Daddy," he pointed to himself, "and a little girl," he tapped her nose, "but most of families have big girls called Mommies, too. You remember now, sweetie?"

"Yes," Michelle frowned at him. "Jess'ca at school just gots a new Mommy. Can I gets one, too? Monica can be my Mommy!" she suggested what seemed logical to her.

"No, honey, it doesn't work like that," Chandler explained delicately, "You don't get to pick a Mommy, the Daddy has to pick the new Mommy."

Michelle looked at him accusingly putting her small hands on her hips, reminding Chandler, in a strange sort of way, of his mother, "You don'ts like Monica?"

"I do, sweetie. I like her a lot," he mollified her, "But it's complicated, grown-up stuff, okay? Watch Alice. Look!" he told her excitedly, hoping to distract her from asking more questions, "She's talking to the caterpillar!"

"I don't wants to watch no more!" Michelle complained, suddenly seeming cranky.

Chandler raised an eyebrow at her, "Are you getting tired, sweetie? It's almost your nap time."

"No," Michelle told him, stretching and yawning anyway, "I not go to sleeps."

"Sweetie, you're getting cranky. We're having naptime early today. Shopping for Auntie Rachel is hard work and it tired you out!" he told her, muttering, "It tired Daddy out, too!"

"No," Michelle protested feebly, squirming as he picked her up. Michelle grabbed onto the fin of her toy fish, dragging him with her as Chandler walked her into her bedroom.

He looked at Monica shyly, "You want to help me put her to bed?" Monica smiled and nodded, walking towards the two of them, kissing Michelle's head when she reached them.

"I wants Monica to tucks me and Shell and Sarkle in," Michelle informed them sleepily, yawning.

"Of course, I'd love to, sweetie," Monica told her, kissing her cheek.

xx

In the twenty minutes since they had tucked Michelle in for her nap, Monica and Chandler had cuddled contentedly on the couch, reveling in the closeness of one another. They chatted quietly, making small talk, just enjoying being alone together.

"I wanted to thank you for today," Monica told Chandler quietly, "Not many guys would walk up and down fifth avenue, dragging a three-year-old for five hours, just for their girlfriends."

"Not many guys have girlfriends like you, then," he smiled at her winningly, "I don't mind. I had fun! And I know Michelle did, too, even if we exhausted her. And hey, maybe we can submit ourselves for the world record for most stores visited in a single day!"

"Yeah," Monica laughed, "I think the Queen of Shopping herself, Rachel, might have us, beat, though."

Chandler looked at her incredulously, "We visited, like, every store on fifth avenue, some more than once! You're telling me someone can beat that?"

Monica laughed again, "Not someone, Rachel! Trust me, if anyone knows how to shop, it's Rachel. She would have made a career of it, if she hadn't left Barry. Her ability to shop in inhuman! We have but mere mortal shopping abilities in comparison!"

"Wow," Chandler mouthed, adding after a moment of contemplation, "Poor Joey."

"Hey," Monica slapped his arm, "Rachel said Joey's really sweet to her," she frowned, "even if he does sometimes have trouble paying for stuff."

Chandler nodded, smirking, "Common problem with Joey. He's really actually grown a lot since we moved out here, though. Has his own place and he manages to pay all the bills with minimal difficulty. He's a good guy. And the best friend I've ever had. I'd trust him with my life, and Michelle's. Even if he does eat tubes of toothpaste in front of her." He frowned.

Monica laughed slightly and laid her head on his shoulder, "You guys are lucky to have one another. I think Ross is feeling like he's missing out on the brotherly bond you guys used to have in college. When talking to him, earlier, I kinda got the feeling he's jealous of Joey, not just because of Rachel, but because of you, too. He's feeling kinda left out." When Chandler looked down at her in surprise, she wondered, worriedly, "Did I do the wrong thing by telling you this?"

"No, no, sweetie," Chandler assured her, "I'm just surprised is all. I didn't know I meant that much to him. Me and Joey'll invite him to a Knicks game or something. Maybe they just need to get to know one another… Then I'm sure they'll get along great!"

Monica looked up at him gratefully, "That's sweet of you. You'd do that for me?"

"Well, yeah, for you and Ross," Chandler explained, "All three of you are very important to me, and I want all of you to be happy."

"You're so great, I love you," Monica told him, closing her eyes and snuggling deeper into his chest, unaware of what she had revealed.

Chandler stared at her open-mouthed, "Uh, um, what? You love me?"

Monica's eyes shot open in shock and she sat up quicker than Chandler had ever seen anyone do so before in his life, "Oh my God. Oh my God," Monica looked at him in horror. "I can't believe I just blurted that out!" she covered her face with her hands, "I'm such an idiot… and now it's too soon, and you don't feel the same and everything is going to be ruined," she rambled with what sounded suspiciously like a sob.

"Monica," Chandler called out, but Monica was too entrenched in her own misery to pay much attention. "Monica," he tried again. Lost as to what else could get him her attention, Chandler pressed his lips soundly against hers, drawing her into a kiss that he hoped conveyed everything he felt for her.

When they finally pulled apart, Chandler leaned his forehead against Monica's, whispering, "I love you, too."

Monica moved her eyes up from her lap, where she had been looking to try and avoid his gaze, for fear of what he might say. Her eyes were glassy, and Chandler felt a tug at his heart. "Really?"

"Yes, really. I love you so much! Pretty sure I fell, or at least started to the day we had that long talk… I felt like such an idiot, falling for the woman who 'saved me,' as Joey put it. I was worried _you_ didn't feel the same."

"I'd have to be the idiot not to feel the same. You're amazing. I'm the lucky one. I'm so glad I can say it out loud now," she told him, hugging him tightly. Unsure how else express his gratitude, Chandler pulled her into another searing kiss, this one deeper than the last. They quickly melted into the couch, her on top of him.

When they finally pulled away she looked at him shyly. "How much longer is Michelle going to be asleep?" She wondered, coyly playing with the collar of the blue polo that she had told him 'brought out the green flecks in his eyes.'

His return glance to her was slightly nervous, but the desire in his eyes was unmistakable. He licked his lips, and took a deep breath to calm his thoughts. his voice slightly husky he informed her, "She's usually naps for an hour or so. But she was exhausted today, so probably closer to two. I'd say we have more than an hour left, easily."

"Oh good," Monica returned pressing her lips back against his, "Plenty of time," she murmured through the kiss. Chandler smiled against her lips, returning the affection hungrily.

Now that their 'I love yous' had been said, Chandler felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The guilt and nervousness he felt over Mary Angela was slowly slipping into the background of his life. Monica was now the centre of attention in the part of his life Mary Angela had once occupied. That thought in mind, he propelled his body forward, pulling Monica, by her hips, further into his lap and sat up slightly so he could reach to kiss her again.

Their tongues met and intertwined, but Monica wasn't content. Desiring more contact, she stared deliberately into Chandler's eyes as she grabbed his wrists, directing his hands to her chest, which she thrust out to him, moaning deeply the instant his skin made contact with her shirt.

Permission given, Chandler stroked her breasts through the thin material of her t-shirt, unable to think of anything but her and how he could further please her. The sound of her moaning softly in his ear, because he was there, because he was providing her pleasure was nothing short of heaven. If he had thought that he was aroused the previous week, it was nothing in comparison to how he was feeling now. He felt utterly drunk on his emotions; he knew there was no way he could force himself to stop this time.

They were in love! That changed everything, in the best imaginable way. The thought sent another pleasant wave of emotion coursing through him. Unable to satisfy his need with distance remaining between them, he pulled her closer still, gripping onto her waist until his fingertips were white. Monica didn't seem to mind. She responded only by groaning pleasurably into their heated kiss. He returned his hands eagerly to her breasts, groaning in pleasure when he felt her skin contract and stiffen beneath his fingers.

Unable to help himself, he tore himself away from the kiss, shimmying lower, kissing the taut peaks of flesh through the thin material of her shirt. Even through the barrier, the action was extremely satisfying, especially when Monica moaned and pressed herself harder against him in response.

Feeling even more drunk than before, he raised himself back up to eye-level with her, making sure to drag his body against hers as he did so, smiling as he got the desired response.

Monica wrapped her arms around him, as she settled against him, laying all of her weight on top of him, their foreheads touching.

Breathlessly, Chandler told her, "You are so gorgeous, you know that?"

She pressed a kiss to his lips quickly, "Certainly feel that way when I'm with you. More than I ever have with anyone else."

Slightly hesitant, unsure if the sentiment would seem out of place, he explained, "It's because I love you."

Tears pooled in her eyes, magnifying the blue of them. She nodded, "I love you, too." They wasted no more time with idle talk, meeting halfway in another enthusiastic kiss.

Tiring of his submissive position underneath her, and feeling slightly daring Chandler wrapped his arms around Monica's waist, rolling her over onto her back, so he was cradled between her legs. Monica groaned in surprise at the action, but responded with fervor when Chandler pressed his aroused body against her.

They were so close… Monica arched her back enjoying the feeling of Chandler stimulating her in all the right ways. She wrapped her arms around him, clutching at his back, unable to do little more than drag her nails up and down it teasingly.

Chandler groaned as Monica arched her back, her head tilting backwards, exposing the long soft column of her neck to him. He immediately began applying soft kisses down the length of it, reveling in the wanton pleasure her responding gasps provided him with, a massive surge of pride filling his heart, and threatening to burst it, as she mumbled his name heatedly.

As he continued to apply a series of feathery kisses along the line of her neck, he simultaneously reached for the hem of her shirt and slowly began pulling it up, exposing millimeters of gorgeous skin at a time. As soon as Monica felt what he was doing, she pushed his hands away impatiently, whipping the shirt off herself, before pulling him eagerly back into the position he had been before. He groaned, unable to help himself, the feel of her soft, supple skin beneath him was much too pleasurable to ignore. He skated his hands across her soft abdomen, and both of them shuddered in pleasure.

Regaining his head, Chandler bit her neck, gently, teasingly, "Impatient much? I would have gotten there eventually, baby," he paused to distribute more kisses, "we have lots of time, honey. We can go as slow as we want and take the time to savour this." He groaned, as much as he wanted to go slow and enjoy their first time together, there was a part of him that couldn't help but feel like she did, because he wanted her so badly. He knew though, that'd they'd only get one chance to have a first time, and he wanted it to be like something out of a fairy tale, as clichéd as it was. Joey had always called him overly romantic, chiding him for 'saving himself' after Angie. Maybe there was a shred of truth to that, after all… He groaned as Monica rocked against him, quickly erasing the thought for him.

"I don't care," she groaned, her voice barely rising above the note of pleasure he could hear gurgling in her throat, "I want you so much. I can't wait, I need you now. Please," she begged, "I'm going to explode."

"Shh, baby," he soothed, "We'll get you there, I promise. You'll be fine. You trust me, don't you?"

"Yes," she gasped, "I'd trust you with my life. Just… do you have to go so damned slow?" She groaned, arching further, so she was pressed more tightly against him. "We both want this, sweetie… I know you do, too, I can feel it," she told him.

He pouted slightly, groaning, "God, you're so, _so_ right… I just," his cheeks coloured more than they already were from his exertions, as he shared what he considered his corny thoughts, "we only get one first time. I wanna do it right. Does that bother you?"

"God, no," she groaned, "I think it's sexy… The thought that you'd even think about that. Have you thought about… us, before. Like this?" He nodded against her so she could feel his answer, burying his head against her neck, so she wouldn't see his pink flushed cheeks.

"Tell me?" she implored, gently, running her hands through his hair, encouragingly. Seeing his hesitation she kissed his jaw, "Please? I'll tell you mine."

He looked up at her intrigued, suddenly very tempted. His curiosity finally got the best of him, "Well, um, in this one dream I had, we, um, we're in the shower together," he explained slowly, his voice clouded with a combination of arousal and embarrassment, "we uh, you know, soaped one another up, uh, _every_where, and um, then, wehadsex," he finished hurriedly, his cheeks feeling as if they were on fire, "You go."

"Mmm, yours sounds better, we should do that one, later," she grinned carnally at him.

He grinned back, suddenly worried his head would split open if he grinned any wider, humming in his throat at the pleased sound of her voice. He felt much less embarrassed about what he had shared, his tone just short of glowing as he questioned, "Really?" She nodded. "You're the best girlfriend, ever," he told her. She grinned in response, the smile soon fading as his kisses brought other emotions to the forefront. Seeing that she was starting to slip back from reality, he reminded teasingly, "You bribed me into telling you, so you're not getting out of telling me yours!"

She stared into his eyes as she talked, needing to see his reaction as she recounted her fantasies. She explained, her voice thick, "Well, there's this secluded back row in the top floor of the university library, where all these old dusty books are…" she trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Yeah?" he prodded, his breath held in anticipation.

Smiling at his eagerness, she continued, breathily, "You pressed against me, my back against the books." She groaned, looking at him, "Is that okay?"

"Mmm, more than okay," he murmured his lips gravitating towards hers, "I suddenly wish I had a bookshelf…"

"Maybe, we'll have to try it out for real, then," she offered suggestively. Chandler groaned as the image filled his mind, Monica thrashing in pleasure beneath him, in the open space of a public library. The image filled him with a renewed sense of vigor; the idea of fulfilling her fantasies for her, very much appealing to him. Anything to make her moan his name in the way she did so well.

Monica didn't seem to notice his far off expression, and moaned his name desperately, satisfying the very thing he had been wanting. "You're wearing too many clothes," she complained suddenly. Chandler couldn't have agreed more. Together they quickly set about undoing the buttons on his shirt, her starting from the top, him from the bottom. The instant they had garment loosened, Monica shoved it off his shoulders, running her hands eagerly down his chest, groaning in pleasure when he pushed himself against the skin of her bare torso.

He drew her into another kiss, feeling more aroused than he could ever remembering being in his lifetime. They were so close. This was it, strangely, he almost felt like it was his very first time, again. He couldn't remember his first time with Mary Angela being so nerve-wracking, but then again he couldn't really remember much of it, he had been so hammered. After that, there had been no pressure, because he knew she'd already had sex with him and enjoyed it, as smashed as he was. With Monica, it was different… he was insanely aware of himself and his body, and the need to make her feel as close to him as he was to her, to make the experience as enjoyable for her as it was for him. He pushed away his deep thoughts concentrating solely on the gorgeous woman pinned beneath him. Every sigh and whimper from her was met with further affections from him.

He sighed as Monica mumbled something unintelligible, and rolled them over again, so she was sitting astride him. He groaned at the loss of skin on skin contact, moving to coax her back against him, but Monica was quicker than he was. She immediately pressed herself flat against his left side, throwing her right leg over his left.

Deciding he was ready to take things a step further, Chandler reached around Monica slowly, feeling for her bra clasp. Monica took that as permission to advance and immediately reached for the zip on his pants.

They had just managed to get the fastenings undone, and cup the willing flesh exposed when the unwelcome noise of the doorbell punctured the silence previously only broken by their moans and heavy breathing.

Neither Monica nor Chandler wanted to move away from their embrace, so they continued to caress and fondle one another gently, hoping whoever was at the door would go away. Unfortunately that was not their luck. Whoever was at the door pressed the buzzer several more times in their impatience, sending the annoying noise across the apartment several more times.

Monica was the first to pull away, cursing. "Who the hell could that be, now, anyway?" she muttered angry at the interruption. He gave a shrug, indicating he had no idea who it was.

No less happy about the interruption, Chandler stalked over to the door, not even bothering to zip his pants, he snapped into the intercom, testily, "Hello?"

"Hello, dear. Are you going to let us up?" a familiar voice rang out. Chandler blanched.

xx

_Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed reading this one, it has probably been my favourite to write of the series so far!_

_I hope you'll review and let me know what you think, it'd mean a lot to me, especially since this chapter is so important to me :) The last chapter wasn't all that well reviewed in the first few days, so I was doubting the direction of this fic, but now that's back on track. A couple of reviews, coming at just the right time and a good friend (Thanks, Jana :)) were what finally propelled me to get off my ass, stop being lazy and mourning what I can't help (see below :P), and write this.  
_

_I'm not in the best of places, at the moment. Why? My university is currently closed because the majority of our teaching staff are on strike, because their union is negotiating better contracts for them and the admin refuses to cooperate. Needless to say this isn't like a typical break in the school year, and really messes up coursework, deadlines and the structure of the entire year, so I'm still on a little bit of an edge right now. The last time this particular union went on strike, in 2000, it went on for way too long and messed up the academic year in a major way. I'm hoping it doesn't come to that, though it's looking grim.  
_

_Happy thoughts, though, please :)_


	9. Chapter 9

**Listen to Your Heart - Chapter Nine**

xx

"Uh, um, hi…" Chandler stuttered into the microphone on the intercom, moving to hastily zip up his pants while continuing to press the button that allowed him to talk into the machine. He shot an apologetic glance at Monica. She sighed and immediately set about hunting for her missing clothes, a slight scowl on her face. "What are you guys doing here?" Chandler wondered, "You're two hours early!"

"Are we dear?" the disembodied voice wondered, "You told us to come pick up Michelle at 4:30. Remember?"

"No," he grumbled, his irritation lessening, "You were supposed to pick her up at 6:30!"

"Oh, we're sorry, dear," she apologized not sounding all that bothered. He could hear her and the man accompanying her arguing through the intercom, "Why won't he let us up?" "I don't know! I'm here with you!" "Doesn't he want us to see her?!"

Chandler rolled his eyes; they obviously thought he couldn't hear them. He pressed the buzzer to unlock the front door, explaining, "Come on up, we'll talk about it in the apartment."

"Okay, we're on our way!"

Once the intercom had clicked off, Chandler set in action, running a hand through his mussed hair and heading toward the couch to look for his shirt. Before he could, Monica handed it to him, asking, "So those are Joey's parents?"

"Yeah," he agreed with a grumble, "They're nice people. Just, not, ah, the brightest." He glanced at Monica, quickly evaluating her appearance, "You look good. How about me?"

"You're always cute," she said with a smirk, playing with him.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "You know that's not what I meant, sweetie. Do I look like I've been rolling around on a couch with you?"

"A little," she told him, "It might help if you did your buttons up straight!" Chandler glanced down at the row of buttons on his shirt, not protesting as she helped him undo them.

"You're eager," he joked. Monica smiled at him and ran a hand through his hair, as well, straightening it for him, "Look," he told her, a little nervous of her reaction, "before they come up, you should know they don't know about us, yet. I wasn't really sure how to tell them."

Monica kissed his cheek, "Don't worry about it, honey. We can tell them together. I don't want you to have to do this alone. I'm as much a part of this as you are."

Chandler kissed her on the forehead, "Thanks for understanding."

"They're not your parents, sweetie. Don't worry. I don't think you're embarrassed of me. Trying to tell your ex-in-laws you've in love with," her face brightened at the thought, "someone other than their daughter… totally different."

"Have I told you you're the best girlfriend ever, yet today?"

"You have, but I can't hear that enough!" Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Chandler shot her a nervous look, but Monica shooed him towards the door anyway, mouthing reassuringly that it would be okay.

Chandler twisted the knob slowly, hesitantly welcoming in his ex-in-laws, "Hi! Mr. and Mrs. Tribbiani, how are you? Come on in. Oh," he added, gesturing towards Monica, almost as if it were a second thought, "this is Monica."

It was Gloria who replied first, "No need to be so formal, dear. Call us Mom and Dad, like you always have. We're still Michelle's grandparents, you know, we're going to be around you, no matter what happens. We still consider you our son-in-law. It wasn't your fault what happened with Mary Angela. We don't blame you."

"I know," Chandler answered, an embarrassed waver to his voice, "Okay, Mom, Dad, come in, take a seat."

"So this is her, huh?" Joe wondered, staring at Monica appraisingly. "It's nice to meet you," he groused, "You've got big shoes to fill, though, my little Mary Angela was a good girl!"

"Oh Joe!" Gloria complained, "Leave the poor girl alone! I think it's sweet Chandler's finally found someone to make him happy! Michelle needs a Mommy, you know!"

Joe grumbled and shot his wife a look, "Don't you think we should get to know her first, before we inflict her on our beloved little granddaughter?"

"Oh hush, dear," Gloria told him, "Chandler loves Michelle as much as we do. He wouldn't expose his daughter to anyone he didn't think was a positive influence on her, would you dear?"

"No, Mom," Chandler agreed, a little embarrassed. "Monica and Michelle get along great! Michelle loves her!" he informed them.

"Of course she would," Gloria nodded along. "She's a precious soul. So easy to get along with. Where is she by the way?" she wondered, glancing around the apartment.

"She's taking her nap, at the moment," Chandler explained, "Monica and I just got her to sleep less than an hour ago. We weren't expecting you for another two hours."

"That was obvious," Joe grumbled, "Don't you think you could have waited until Michelle wasn't in the next room? What if she woke up?" Chandler and Monica both flushed, embarrassed that Joey's parents obviously caught onto the signs and knew what they had been up to.

"Joe," Gloria said harshly, "He's an adult. Besides you know how Michelle gets when she's napping. An avalanche would be hard pressed to wake her."

"Sorry, sorry," he returned rather insincerely, "But still, Gloria, don't you think it's a little soon? I mean Mary Angela's bed is hardly cold, yet, he's clearly off cavorting with some woman-"

"Joe," Gloria interrupted severely, "Like you have room to talk! This isn't any of our business! If you don't want Chandler to cut us off from Michelle, I advise you stop talking, right now. It's been two years, and Mary Angela left him. Let the poor man live his life. It was our daughter's mistake, not his. I'm sure Monica is lovely. Come here, dear," she gestured to the seat next to where she was sitting at the kitchen table, "Don't let my husband get to you. He just misses Mary Angela, and seeing Michelle always reminds him of her. I think you two make a lovely couple."

Monica obediently listened to the older woman, sliding into the seat she had indicated. Chandler followed Monica, sitting in the chair next to hers. Underneath the table he squeezed her hand supportively.

"I guess it's good that the two of you are here, early," Chandler told them reluctantly, "it gives us a little time to talk, and for you to get to know Monica." He shot a somewhat exasperated look at Joe, daring him to comment. He had known all along his ex-father-in-law would be the difficult one to convince. Gloria was always so warm and friendly the few times he had seen her since Mary Angela had left, often trying to convince him to go on dates and put himself out there. He was extremely grateful for her support now, and knew she was his best shot at getting Joe to see his side.

Gloria nodded warmly, shooting another look at her husband who also nodded halfheartedly.

"I… uh, don't want you to think badly of Monica. Either of you," he glanced at Joe quickly, "She's an amazing woman. She's the most generous woman I've ever met, she bakes the best chocolate chip cookies I've ever tried," he explained in a light-hearted tone, a brief smile lighting his face, before he continued seriously, "and Michelle loves her. I don't want you to think I'm disrespecting your daughter, but it's been two years," his eyes prickled as tears threatened to fall, "I loved her. But I spent two years waiting for her, but I don't want to wait another two. And I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone. Monica is the best thing that could have happened to me at this point in my life."

Monica nodded and squeezed his hand, again, in support, "That goes for me, too. I feel very lucky to be a part of both Chandler and Michelle's lives. We've talked about Mary Angela, and I don't want you to think I'm trying to replace her. Michelle should know her mother. But Chandler and I are both serious about this relationship. It would mean a lot to him – and me, too – to have your blessing."

Gloria smiled at them both, patting Monica's shoulder in a maternal way, "No need to be so formal! You're both adults. Joe and I are both thrilled for you! You deserve this, Chandler. It doesn't matter what we think, does it, Joe?"

"I guess not," he mumbled, clearly not all that pleased his wife had spoken for him, "I suppose she seems like a nice enough girl, Chandler," he told his ex-son-in-law, as if Monica wasn't in the room. Though everyone could tell from his tone that he was being sincere, it was clear from the clouded expression in his eyes that he was still holding on to some resentment. He continued offering an off-handed apology of sorts, "I was real close with Mary Angela. I hate to think of her unhappy. I do want what's best for you, though, Chandler. And if you think this Monica person is it, so be it."

Gloria patted his back, clearly pleased with his decision to play nice. "So," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "Joe here hasn't scared the two of you too much has he?"

"No," Chandler told her, "I'll admit I was a little worried about how you two would react, but… other than that, no. It went better than I expected actually."

Gloria laughed, "When you say 'you two,' you mean old grouchy pants, here, don't you?" Joe grunted in response, "Don't worry, honey. His daughters are more terrified of him than you are! Mary Therese didn't tell us she got pregnant by that boyfriend of hers for almost five months because of him!"

Chandler looked slightly curious, "How are your daughters, by the way? I haven't seen any of them in a while, and Joey rarely mentions any news."

"Oh nothing interesting," Gloria explained, breezing past the topic. "What do any of them matter, when you're in love! You shouldn't be so worried about the others and enjoy Monica, here," she told him, smiling warmly at Monica. Monica smiled back, glad to have her support.

"In, uh, in love?" Chandler asked.

"There's no need to be shy around us, dear. We can see it. It's quite obvious. People who aren't in love don't look at one another the way you two are," she shot a slightly rueful look in Joe's direction, her gossipy tone making her sound like Rachel for a moment, "Don't tell me you kids haven't said it to one another yet?" She peered at both of them, in turn, curiously, daring them to disagree.

"We have," Chandler replied hesitantly, "Just, uh, very recently, actually," he flushed, and Joe made a slight coughing noise, "We just didn't think it was that obvious to the world, is all." Monica nodded in agreement.

"Oh, trust me," Gloria told him knowledgably, "When people are in love it's always obvious. You should see Joey with that sweet little girlfriend of his! So obvious! You're going out with the two of them for dinner tonight, that's what you told me, right, Chandler?"

"Yeah," Chandler answered distractedly, thinking that he had heard a noise from Michelle's room, "We're going to dinner with Joey and Rachel tonight."

Seconds later Chandler was proven right when Michelle burst out of her room, and ran straight for her grandparents, yelling, "Granma! Granpa!" as she bounded towards them. Joe hoisted her up into his lap when she reached him.

"Mishi," Chandler admonished, "You're up early. Are you still tired? You were only napping for an little more than an hour."

"No," Michelle told him defiantly, "I heards you and Granma and Granpa talking. I wanna see thems."

"Hi, sweetie," Joe told her, "How's Grandpa's lucky penny?"

"I's good," she told him proudly, "I's in preschools now," she waved the plush toy she had carried with her from her room, as she continued the conversation in a totally different direction, sharing the story of her day, "Today we wents and got Sarkle and a prezzie for Auntie Rachel! And then we came home and watched Alice and Monica braided my hair!" she told them, turning her head so they could see her hair. Once they had oohed and ahhed sufficiently, she continued, "Then Daddy maked me take a nap 'acause he said I was cranky, and then I waked up and comes to see you!"

"Wow," Gloria told her, "What a busy day!"

"Uh huh," Michelle agreed, wondering, "Did you bring me anything?"

"Michelle," Chandler scolded, "It's not nice to ask people that." She shrugged, a big smile on her face. She knew her grandparents always brought her something. It was tradition.

"We didn't bring it with us, sweetie," Joe told her, "It's at our house. You're coming to stay with us tonight!"

Michelle looked to her father for permission. "He's right, honey, you're staying with them tonight, for a sleepover. Monica and I'll come get you in the morning." Chandler cringed, suddenly wishing he hadn't included Monica in the statement, knowing immediately what Joe would deduce from the statement.

Thankfully, Michelle was distracting him, and he didn't even notice. Chandler thanked his lucky stars for probably the millionth time that he had a daughter.

"I's hungry. Can I have a snack?" She wondered.

Joe immediately moved to lift her off his lap so he could move to get her a snack, but Michelle protested, "No! I wants Monica to gets it, she makes good foods. She makes the bestest cookies, ever!" Chandler and Monica both grinned. Why hadn't they thought to bring out Michelle earlier? If anyone could convince Joe to see their side, it was his 'Lucky Penny.'

Monica stood up, eager to appease Michelle, and prove to Chandlers in-laws how much Michelle loved her. "Of course, sweetie. How does apple slices and peanut butter sound?" she asked in her sweetest most motherly voice, her competitive spirit needing to 'win' their approval.

"Yummy," Michelle rubbed her tummy, "Can I have some choco' chips with them?"

"A few, sweetie," Monica agreed, "We don't want to spoil your dinner, do we? Not when you're going with Grandma and Grandpa, huh?"

"No," Michelle agreed. Gloria looked on impressed. At first Joe had looked put out, after Michelle had rejected his offer to get her snack, but now he was staring at Monica with the same, albeit more grudging, respect as his wife did.

"You're great with her, honey," Gloria told her, "Chandler was right, she adores you!" Monica smiled, touched.

Joe commented as well, with what almost sounded like admiration, "Grandpa's Lucky Penny knows best."

xx

After an additional hour and a half of socializing, Gloria and Joe had finally left with Michelle, promising to take good care of her. She had waved goodbye to her father and Monica, after promises they'd both see her tomorrow. Michelle had insisted on hugging and kissing first her father, then Monica – much to Joe's chagrin – goodbye. He had complained she was acting too much like Michelle's mother. His wife had quieted him with a swift elbow to the rib and they had left, leaving the couple to themselves.

"Wow," Monica groaned as they both flopped, side by side, into the couch, "was so not expecting to have to deal with _that_. Are they always like that?"

"Yeah," Chandler grinned. "They're usually pretty nice – like Gloria was, but as draining as ever. Joe reacted a lot better than I was expecting, though. I think he likes you, despite the way he was acting. But that may have been more because of his 'Lucky Penny' than anything you did." He laughed.

"Oh shut up, you," Monica grumbled, "You know I hate it when people don't like me!"

"I was just teasing, sweetheart," Chandler informed her, "You did excellent with them. Joe was just wanting to dislike you from the start. But I think you may have swayed him a little!"

"Yeah?" Monica asked, struggling not to sound desperate.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You're very likeable, honey. I love you," he told her quietly.

"I love you, too," she told him, the newness of the phrase was captivating; she didn't think she could ever get tired of the rush of feelings that accompanied it. Quietly, she continued, "I so wish we could have continued what we started earlier. I'm so tired of wanting you," she kissed his jaw lightly, "Do we have time now?"

"No, I'm sorry, baby," he glanced at the clock above the TV, "we've got less than 40 minutes before we have to meet Joey and Rach for dinner, and we still have to get ready. Besides, you know I don't want our first time to be rushed. Tonight, I promise, all night." He smiled.

Monica shivered at the thought, "Deal. I can't wait," she grinned, then paused as she reconsidered, "Can't we call Joey and Rach and cancel? I'm sure they'll understand. I know Rachel will, and Joey's been dying for you to forget what I'm sure he considers your pending petition for Monkhood."

"I want to, so badly, but they're our best friends! I feel bad ditching them for sex! We're strong enough to wait a few hours aren't we?"

"I don't! See, I want you so bad, I've lost all compassion! Besides, who cares about Joey and Rachel? They had sex even before their first date! You know they had sex, that first night we all met for dinner, right? They couldn't possibly understand how I'm feeling right now. I haven't waited this long with a boyfriend, since my first time!"

Chandler looked at her in surprise, "You haven't?"

"You have?" she wondered, suddenly very curious.

"No," he answered sheepishly.

"See? I mean we've already said I love you. Your daughter, who is gone for the night, loves me," she grinned proudly, "There should be nothing stopping us. What do we need best friends for anyway?"

"God, don't tempt me. You don't think I haven't been wanting this as much as you have? It's not my fault I can feel compassion and be extremely hot for my beautiful girlfriend at the same time," he teased, "We've waited three weeks. What's three hours?"

"You're, right," she sighed, "I'm just over eager! Twice now we've been this close," she held her fingers a tiny distance apart, "I just want to finish it right, you know?"

"God, of course I know. Geez, you have no idea how hard it was to stop today. It was like a little piece of my soul was getting pulled away, as unbelievably cheesy as that sounds," he told her self-consciously.

"Nah," she reassured him, stroking his hair, "Not cheesy. I felt it too. If I tore off a little of yours, you got a little of mine."

He squeezed her hand, "Good to know." They both smiled goofily at one another for a moment before Chandler sat up alarmed, "Shit, Mon, we've got less than 40 minutes to get ready and you still have to go home! Are going to be able to get home and back on time?" He stood up quickly, pulling Monica with him, looking at her puzzled when she didn't seem to be in any sort of rush.

She placed a finger over his lips, "Don't worry. I've got it covered." She went in to his room, returning a few moments later with a dress and a pair of heels, "And my makeup bag is in your bathroom."

Chandler looked at her in shock, and scratched his head curiously, "How you get all that stuff in my apartment without me noticing?"

"You're just not very observant, sweetie. Or did you think you always had a pretty little red dress hanging in your closet?"

Chandler shrugged sheepishly, "I didn't even notice it."

Monica laughed at him, "Michelle did. That one is a little girly girl. She zeroed in on my makeup bag in the bathroom in about five minutes, and wanted to know if she could try it out."

Chandler groaned, "Great. Wanting to grow up already. You told her no, right?"

"Of course, sweetie," Monica told him, running a hand through his hair comfortingly.

"I still can't believe you carted all that stuff into my apartment without me noticing!"

"I brought it over the night I slept here, with you, remember?"

"How could I forget," he wondered, enveloping her in his arms, with a smile. "That was a good night. Tonight will be even better," he promised.

"I know it will," she told him, hugging him tighter for a moment. Waving the dress she was still holding, Monica pointed towards the bathroom, "I'm going to go get ready. You need the bathroom before I take it over?"

"Nah, ladies first," he explained, watching as she walked towards the bathroom, her dress swishing behind her.

"Hey, Mon," he called after her, "You're going to look gorgeous in that dress. After tonight's over, I'm going to enjoy unzipping it oh-so-slowly." He grinned with a slight maliciousness.

Monica grinned back with a smile to match his, "I'm counting on it!"

xx

Chandler groaned as he followed Monica, his hand in hers, as the hostess led them into the seating area of the restaurant. He had been right, she did look absolutely gorgeous in her dress. There was no question about that. Watching as she moved gracefully with her swishy dress, he suddenly doubted the intelligence of convincing her that eating dinner with Joey and Rachel was a good idea. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to control himself through an entire dinner. Then again, he was sure Monica wouldn't mind if he was on a little less than perfect behaviour.

"Are you okay," she wondered, as they slid into their booth, across from one another, him next to Joey, her next to Rachel, "You look a little starry-eyed."

"Yeah," he groaned, "Just thinking about how good you look in your dress."

"Yeah?" she asked, "What kinds of things were you thinking?" she wondered, flirting.

"How evil it is for someone to look that gorgeous, and how I'm not sure if I'll be able to restrain myself for the entire night."

"I'm not asking you to," she promised with a wink. A moment later, he felt her stilettoed foot sliding up his leg and fought to push away all indecent thoughts.

It was going to be a long night.

In an effort to distract himself from what Monica's foot was doing to his leg underneath the table, Chandler attempted to start up a conversation with Joey. Monica merely grinned at him wickedly. "Hey, Joe, your parents stopped by earlier. You know, to pick up Michelle. They know about me and Monica," he grimaced slightly at the memory, though, his thoughts thankfully shifted away from Monica's affections for a moment.

Joey looked intrigued and failed to keep his glee at bay, "Oh man! They walked in on you guys!? I know you couldn't have grown the balls to actually tell them! You're almost as scared to tell Pa stuff as I am! Remember when you and Mary Angela had to tell them she was pregnant?" Joey guffawed and slapped his knee at the memory, "_So_ glad I was there for that one!"

Chandler flushed, "Joey! It wasn't that bad. They didn't walk in on us, anyway… exactly."

Joey seemed triumphant, "Exactly? What does that mean?"

"It means we stopped… doing stuff… before they saw!" Chandler snapped, slightly irritated, "What do you think it means?!"

"But you were doing stuff?" Joey glanced sidelong at Monica, nodding appreciatively, "What was that like?" he grinned carnally. Monica heard what he said and kicked him gently under the table, releasing Chandler from her teasing for a few moments.

"Ow! What'cha kicking me for? It's not my fault Chandler's telling me dirty stories!" Monica tilted her head and raised her eyebrow questioning him silently.

Rachel grinned at him and patted his arm, "Is Monica beating you up, baby? Don't worry, I'll kiss it better, later." She winked.

"It wasn't a dirty story, anyway," Chandler complained, "I was just telling him what happened this afternoon after his parents showed up at my apartment!"

Rachel seemed intrigued at the opportunity to gossip, "Did they say anything about us?"

Chandler scratched his head trying to remember, "I think Gloria said you guys made a cute pair… and then later," he grinned evilly at Joey, "that you'd make a good mother to Joey's children!"

Joey's eyes widened comically. "Children! I'm not ready to have a baby!" he screeched, his voice a few pitches higher than usual. He glanced at Rachel, "You didn't tell my Mom you were pregnant did you?! Before me!"

Rachel grinned and laughed, stroking his hair comfortingly. "Chandler's just messing with you, sweetie. Pull your jaw up off the floor and stop leering at his girlfriend and everything'll be fine! You can leer at me, though… if you like," she told him, her voice flirty.

"Yeah, baby!" Joey grinned at her, "Did I tell you that you look magnificent in that dress yet?"

Rachel grinned at him impressed, "Magnificent?"

"Word of the day toilet paper," Joey nodded, in explanation, "Today I got… Magnificent, Splendor, Spontaneous, Decrepit, Lamentable, Obsolescent-"

Chandler interrupted, in awe, "Just how much toilet paper did you use today?" he frowned, "You know what? Don't answer that. _Anyway_," he continued, with the story he had originally been telling before they had diverged onto a tangent, "Your parents found out about me and Monica… and they're really happy for us. Even your Dad was pretty nice about it… considering."

Joey seemed surprised, "Seriously? Are you sure it was him and not someone who looked like him? I was pretty sure he'd kill ya if you so much as looked at another woman after Angie!"

"I know, right? I was-" Chandler agreed, suddenly pausing and groaning inwardly, when he felt Monica's foot once again begin its ascent up his leg… She had slipped off her shoe underneath the table, and he could feel her stocking covered foot about to-

His attention was suddenly snapped back to Joey, who was calling his name, wondering, "What's up? You suddenly stopped talking, dude… are you okay?"

Chandler flushed out of more than just embarrassment. "I'm fine… I was just, um, finished talking," he stammered out awkwardly, shooting a half-glare, half-I'll-pay-you-back-later stare to Monica who returned a coy smile in response.

Rachel turned to Monica who had been relatively quiet until this point, "How do you feel about that Mon? I know how much you need people to like you…"

"Oh, um, it was good," Monica answered vaguely, making it clear she hadn't really been paying attention; she was busily involved in other endeavors.

"It was good?" Rachel questioned Monica, in shock, "That's all you have to say? Chandler's ex-in-laws don't love you and 'it was good?'"

Monica blushed, but explained rationally to cover her blunder, "Gloria loved me… Joe didn't. What am I going to do about it?"

"That's just so not like you Mon. All that messing around must be going to your head!" Monica flushed deeper, because there was more than a little truth to the statement. If she hadn't been messing around, she would have caught the question.

Teasing, Monica shot back, "Is that why you're such a pushover, then? Too much 'messing around' in high school?"

"Ooh. That was low, Mon," Rachel growled back, her voice light enough to let them know she wasn't really offended.

"Yeah, well," Monica teased, "When the shoe fits…"

"Haha. I'm not like that anymore! My longest relationship lasted longer than any of yours combined! I was with Ross for almost a year!" she frowned, and added, "And Joey and I have been going strong for a month!" Monica and Chandler both sobered at the mention of Ross, while Joey remained happily oblivious. "What's up guys? Is there something wrong with me mentioning Ross?"

"No," Monica sighed, "It's just complicated. He's feeling kinda left out, from, well, this. Us," she gestured around the table, "Because, well, the four of us are always hanging out now. He feels like he's lost Chandler, a second time… and now he's losing me and you, too, Rach," she explained, "I know my brother's an idiot sometimes, but go easy on him?"

"Yeah, okay," Rachel agreed, "I don't mean to flaunt Joey in his face."

"Rach!" Joey gasped indignantly, "He's never walked in on us having sex!"

"Baby," Rachel smirked, "That's not what 'flaunt' means." While sometimes Joey's obliviousness was annoying, most of the time she found it cute. He was like a little kid at heart. She loved his innocence, it made her feel youthful, as well. She loved that their relationship had so much balance; they both had their good and bad points, but they fit well together in spite of those points. Sometimes she felt guilty for the thought, but with Ross she had felt drastically inferior. She knew that was never his intent, but they'd had little in common and he always seemed to view her passions as lesser than his.

"It isn't?" Joey smiled at her goofily, unashamed of his mistake, "What's it mean, then?"

"To show off," Chandler explained, in another futile attempt to ignore his girlfriend's teasing underneath the table.

Joey grinned, "Too bad that's not on my toilet paper, then, huh?"

"Yeah," Chandler drawled, hardly paying attention, "Very disappointing…" Thankfully, he was spared from further commentary when Rachel continued in the previous vein of thought.

"Anyway," Rachel continued, "I never even really considered Ross's feelings in all of this. I was so busy concentrating on me and my relationship… I mean, I understand how he's feeling – look how crazy I went when he flitted off to Vermont with that Emily chick! Thank God, nothing happened with _that_ bitch – but it's been a while… I thought we were moving on, and happy for one another?"

Monica's foot paused, tapping gently against Chandler as she considered what her best friend had said, and he groaned audibly in relief. 'This is nothing short of torture!' he decided.

"I think, actually," Monica explained carefully, "He finally is. You remember Julie? He saw her again on Thursday and I think they really hit it off! They were all cute and flirty with one another, pretending they weren't. But they so were!"

"Julie?" Rachel wondered icily, "As in Julie-Julie?"

"As opposed to Julie-Julie-Julie?" Chandler couldn't resist asking. A look from Monica and a well placed movement of her foot quickly shut him up.

"Of course Julie-Julie. Do you know another Julie?" Monica explained.

"No," Rachel pouted, "I just can't believe he's seeing her again! Are they getting a cat?"

"You're with Joey, now!" Monica told her as if she didn't know, "You're _happy_ with Joey."

"I know," Rachel groaned, "Just does he have to move on with Julie? At least when I moved on I didn't do it with Paolo! How do you think Ross would have liked that? I'm not jealous. I just think it's going to be damn awkward!"

"It's not," Monica told her. "Trust me, she likes you. Especially when you're not with Ross," she explained cheekily.

"Yeah," Chandler agreed, "I was there, trust me, the woman gave 'friendly' a new meaning. How did you _ever_ hate her?"

"It's complicated," Rachel groaned, "And embarrassing! I mean, I spent whole evenings plotting ways to stop her and Ross from having sex!"

"You'll get over it," Monica claimed, "Let Ross and Julie be happy. At least he'll have someone other than us to talk about dinosaur bones with! So really, she's saving our ears a lot of hassle and protecting them from future torture! No more bones!" Chandler groaned at the unwanted mental imagery the word sent flitting through his mind. This was not safe territory, not at all, especially not with what Monica had decided to resume doing under the cover of the table…

"That _is_ true," Rachel agreed, "Why didn't we think of this earlier?"

"Because you were insanely hung up on the man?" Monica guessed. Rachel pouted.

Joey had long since lost interest in his friends' conversation, and had contented himself with the rolls offered, but they were no longer satisfying. His hunger was imminent, "Have you guys even looked at your menus, yet?" he complained, "The waiter'll be here any minute now! Decide what you want!"

Chandler shot him a look, "Yes, Dad." He snatched a menu from the middle of the table where the waiter had left the stack of them, and began to browse it. The girls did the same.

Perusing her menu did not seem to deter Monica in the least. As soon as she snapped open her menu she was back to mercilessly teasing Chandler. He was sure he was about to spontaneously combust, when just as Joey had claimed he would, the waiter converged on them, and began taking orders. Eager to eat, as always, Joey spouted off his order first.

In Chandler's mind it seemed to take forever for everyone to place his or her order. Monica in particular seemed to drag the process out, hemming and hawing over the decision to have soup or salad, as if she knew where his mind was and was playing with him. The moment everyone had finished ordering, Chandler pulled his napkin off his lap, incidentally shifting Monica's foot, and threw it on the table. Hoping the others wouldn't see his obviously flushed face in the dim lighting of the restaurant – romantic, according to Monica - he proceeded to excuse himself, "Going the bathroom guys."

He hardly allowed them a moment to respond, and rushed off to the bathroom, glad to be away from Monica's insanely arousing ministrations. If she had continued tormenting him a second longer he would have thrown her on the table and made love to her right then and there… and well, that would have been embarrassing to say the least.

He slipped into the bathroom, pleased it was a single stall, and a nice one at that. He headed towards the marble sink, intending to splash some water on his face, to cool himself down, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He was about to let loose a girly scream and cower at whoever dared interrupt his business, when he saw Monica's face.

"What are you doing here, baby?" he wondered as she slipped into the large one-room stall with him, shutting the door behind her, and locking it. She dimmed the lights so hardly more than soft shadows were visible. He briefly wondered what they were doing with a dimmer in a bathroom of all places, but thoughts of Monica quickly erased the question from his mind.

He moved towards her, instinctively, his hands settling comfortably on her waist, pausing briefly to admire the beautiful silhouette her dress formed on her, hugging in all the right places, and her feet… encased in those goddamn stilettos… he was sure he'd never loved and hated a shoe so much at the same time in his life.

She licked her lips, her voice thick, "I had to see you. I told them I had to make a phone call to work, because I suddenly remembered an order had to be mailed," she informed him, sliding her hands around his waist, and resting her head on his chest, tucking her head snuggly under his.

"What you were doing to me out there was torture, you know," he told her, his words ghosting across her skin. His lips were so close to her ear. So close.

"Kinda got the picture when you jumped up and fled back here. You liked it, right?" she wondered, slightly insecure, though she already knew the answer to her question.

"Too much, I think," he groaned, the sound deepening as she pulled back, the loss of contact frustrating him. She leaned back against the door. Chandler immediately knew what she wanted, and quickly moved to fulfill the need, sandwiching her between himself and the hardwood of the door.

She moaned lightly, widening her stance to regain stability, though she was in little danger in her position, pressed tightly against the door. Chandler wouldn't let her fall.

Chandler quickly set about applying the kisses she had been waiting for. The forbidden aspect of doing so in such a public space was extremely sensual.

"It's not quite a library, huh, baby?" he whispered, pausing only briefly in his affections to speak, before moving his kisses to her ear, gently following the curve of it.

Monica groaned, "Better. This one's real." She reached her hands up the back of his suit jacket, stroking his back through the material of his shirt.

"Yesss," he told her, groaning as she pressed her body tighter against him, lifting her thigh and wrapping it around him. Taking the action as permission he lifted her, gripping her butt, using his weight against her to press her against the door. She wrapped her legs around him, to further ensure she wouldn't fall, and they both moaned, and began to rock against one another gently.

Once settled they immediately reached to kiss the other. Her hands wandered his clothed body, restlessly, as if searching for bare skin that needed to be caressed. Finding none, she settled on running her fingers through the soft strands of his hair, firmly cradling his head and directing their kiss.

She didn't realize how much she missed his hands running softly over the curves of her body until they no longer were. Both of his hands were occupied, cupping her butt, and holding her in place. As much as she loved his hands, in that moment she wasn't willing to give up the sensuality of the closeness of that position just yet. She contented herself with the feel of him leaning against her, and his soft lips pressed against hers.

"God, sweetie," she told him, when they finally broke away panting. "Yes, like that. I… mmm," she babbled in her pleasure.

"Mmm," he groaned in return, "I love it when you moan. It makes my heart and stomach do flip flops. You sound so incredibly sexy," he told her in a husky voice, "especially when you say my name. I never liked my name. But you make it sound so… good." She smiled and moaned his name loudly and purposefully, pleased when she received the desired response. She briefly hoped no one outside had heard, but reassured herself the door was thick and no one would care.

The thrill of wondering if she had caught the attention of a passerby added a certain excitement to the act. Feeling more daring thanks to the rush of adrenaline, Monica reached to undo the top few buttons of his dress shirt, displeased to find he was wearing a shirt underneath. Undeterred, she gripped his shoulders and leaned to kiss the skin she had exposed.

Chandler groaned, with Monica's lips occupied against his jawline, he couldn't reach to kiss her deliciously bare shoulder, nor could he touch her; his hands were still occupied holding her against the wall. It was tormenting to be able to feel her beneath him, so soft and sexy, and be able to do nothing about it, but wait. He badly needed to make her feel how he was feeling. He wasn't sure how much more anticipation he could take.

After what seemed like an eternity she let up, pressing her lips against his ear, and groaning purposefully, loving how much it excited him. The pleasured expression on his face at the sound was reward enough.

Pleased he was finally able to, Chandler leaned to kiss Monica's freckled shoulder, tracing the hollow of her collarbone along towards her shoulder. He groaned in slight displeasure when he met the spaghetti strap of her dress. He nudged it with his face, moaning in dissatisfaction when it refused to budge. Desperate to remove the barrier, he bit the strap, his teeth grazing gently against her shoulder as he did so. Monica moaned as he dragged the material down her shoulder at an agonizingly slow pace. She sighed as the strap finally slipped from her shoulder, leaving the area soft and bare for him to kiss. Needing more, still, he repeated the action on the other shoulder, satisfied when, without the straps holding it in place, her dress slipped down a few inches exposing more gorgeous skin to adore with his lips.

He pulled back slightly so he could reach to lavish kisses on the area and they both groaned slightly at the loss of contact. When his lips touched her chest, kissing the exposed cleavage, Monica sighed his name reverently, and immediately threaded her fingers through his hair, holding his head against her, so he wouldn't move. She stroked his hair gently letting him feel her appreciation.

When his lips finally returned to hers a few minutes later, Monica decided she was ready for things to progress further. She began to push Chandler's jacket off his shoulders and he responded favourably. When she moved to undo his belt buckle he seemed to freeze, and slowly, almost as if he didn't want to, moved one of his hands to prevent the action, careful to make sure she was still well-balanced against the wall.

Pressing a kiss against her ear, he groaned into it, "Oh, God, please don't hate me." Monica sighed in resignation of what was coming next. "I'm so sorry, baby. You have no idea! I want you so bad. So fucking bad, I'm in actual pain having to do this!"

"I know, baby," she comforted him, "I feel it, too." She stroked his hair. "Don't feel bad. As soon as we get, home. Remember? Only an hour or less left. As soon as we're finished dinner, we'll make our excuses and leave. Okay?"

"God," he sighed, "If you don't, I will. I can't believe I let us do this again! I have zero willpower!"

"Shh," Monica soothed, "It's okay. There were two of us. You aren't the only one with no willpower. We're almost there. Just think of when we get home, okay? I enjoyed this, and I know you did, too. Nothing's lost and we have an amazing memory now."

He nodded, "I just don't want our first time to be in a bathroom, you know? That's not romantic… or sexy. Though this experience has changed my opinion of bathrooms a little," he grinned winningly at her, as he gently lowered her to the floor. She wobbled slightly, as she moved to take a step. Her legs still felt like rubber. Chandler wrapped his arms around her waist, from behind, steadying her as she adjusted the straps of her dress, and straightened her hair.

"Okay," he sighed squeezing her tightly for a moment. "You go out first. I need to calm myself down a little," he explained, releasing her, walking towards the sink to splash a little cool water on his face.

She kissed him one last time and disappeared out the door, smiling at him as she left. He stood in front of the sink for a few moments, and sighed heavily. He grimaced and turned on the water, splashing himself. Deciding he was ready to confront his friends again, he grabbed one of the cloth towelettes and dried his face, before throwing it into the washing bin, and exiting the bathroom.

Trying to seem as innocent as possible, Chandler shuffled back towards their table, and slid into his seat. By the shit-eating grins on Rachel and Joey's faces it was obvious that they both knew what had happened and had been waiting for him to return.

Monica seemed immensely grateful for his return; reassuring her, he squeezed the hand she had laid on the table. He was thankful that Joey and Rachel had waited for him to return, and not decided to double team her. As much as he was dreading the impending conversation, at least his girlfriend hadn't had to brave it alone.

Joey and Rachel exchanged face-splitting grins. It was Joey who finally broached the topic. "Have fun in the bathroom, did you, Chandler? You were in there a while." he questioned, his grin growing larger still.

"And you, Monica," Rachel wondered innocently, "How was calling work? Did the order get sent out?"

Chandler and Monica both flushed and shrugged, mumbling wordlessly. Monica griped his hand tighter in her embarrassment.

"Hey, Chandler," Rachel wondered, "Is that lipstick all over your collar?" Flushing, Chandler glanced down at his shirt searching for the stain, realizing when he did that he had fallen into a trap, unwillingly providing proof for their little theory. Both Joey and Rachel giggled.

"See! I told ya they messed around in the bathroom," Joey told his girlfriend, "it's was so obvious!"

"I believed you, sweetie," Rachel said, pointing at her best friend, "I mean, look at Monica. Can you say guilty conscience three times fast? And to top it off, I think she's got a hickey starting to form right about there," she tapped Monica's neck gently, grinning when Monica's hand flew up to the spot, as if she could feel the change. She blushed a deeper shade of pink.

"I cannot believe you guys had sex in the bathroom!" Joey grinned deviously, "That is so hot!"

"Yeah," Rachel added, impressed, "He's right! That is so unlike you guys! Joey, no problem. Me, maybe… but you, Monica? You're less of a goody goody than I thought!"

Chandler and Monica both looked downward unable to meet their friends' eyes. Finally Monica answered in their defense, "We didn't do it. We just _almost_ did." Blood rushed to her cheeks again, upon admitting it, out loud.

Joey seemed disappointed. "Aww! Well that sucks! Rach and I are planning on going out for lunch tomorrow. You guys are welcome to come with and use the facilities if you want to finish properly!" Rachel laughed.

Monica and Chandler remained in their embarrassed silence for a moment before Chandler explained further, "It's not that we didn't have time..." he paused, not sure how much he wanted to share with their prying friends, "We just didn't want our first time to be, well, next to a toilet, you know?"

"Whoa, whoa, what?!" Joey exclaimed, "First time!?" He looked at Rachel, wondering, "Did he just say they've never had sex before?"

"Sounded like it!" Rachel gasped, staring back incredulously at her boyfriend. Addressing the couple with raised eyebrows, she queried, "You guys cannot be serious!" Seeing their sheepish faces, she looked back to Joey, "They're serious! How is this possible?"

"We always get interrupted and shit happens," Monica explained sourly, "It not like we've taken vows of celibacy or anything!"

"But wow!" both Joey and Rachel gasped. Joey grinned at them evilly, "How bad do you guys want to get home, now, huh? No Michelle, no interruptions, and a nice big soft bed! No toilets in sight!" He and Rachel both laughed. The other couple shot them further sour looks.

"Shut up!" Monica snipped.

Joey raised his hands defensively, "Sorry, sorry. Sounds like someone's a little sexually frustrated, doesn't it, Rach?" He grinned.

Rachel nodded, tilting her chin in Chandler's direction, "And look at the other one! I think he's getting a little… testy, too!" They both burst out laughing, Joey high-fiving Rachel for her quip. Seeing the glares they were receiving, Rachel added, "Lighten up you guys! You can go home soon enough. Look! Here comes the waiter with our food, now!"

xx

Eager for their night together to begin, Monica and Chandler had devoured their meals in a space of less than twenty minutes. Joey and Rachel grinned, amused, as they watched their friends; they took purposefully long, slow bites, savouring their meals, thoroughly enjoying watching Monica and Chandler squirm in their seats. They kept shooting one another glances and Joey and Rachel knew exactly what they wanted. Neither had the courage to make excuses though, after the relentless teasing they had been subjected to earlier.

Joey finally took pity on them, "Go, you guys. We'll foot the bill. Have fun!" Rachel hit him on the arm, pouting, upset he had released them from the teasing.

Chandler returned a quick, courteous, "Thanks, man," and without a second glance back, he and Monica were on their feet, hands clasped and heading for the door.

The thirty seconds it took to hail a cab seemed to take far too long. They settled in the back seat, hurriedly offering the driver Chandler's address, their nerves fluttering in anticipation. All that stood between them and an entire night alone together was a cab ride! Monica cuddled up against Chandler, telling him excitedly, "Finally!"

Chandler rested his head top of hers, "I know! Third time's the charm! Is it weird our friends are back at the restaurant practically rooting us on?"

"Nah, it's sweet," Monica claimed, "that they would care about our happiness like that."

"I feel like a little kid on Christmas morning!" Chandler told her happily.

"I hope you never got _this_ for Christmas when you were a kid!" Monica told him sexily, pressing herself further into his arms.

Chandler shook his head. "I got a lot of weird presents as a kid, with my dysfunctional parents. This is better than any of those presents, though."

Monica nodded, "Should I tie a bow around my head, then, so you can unwrap me?"

"Nah, that dress is wrapping enough. Someone took their time wrapping this present very prettily," he told her running a hand down her side, stroking through the material. "Something tells me I'm really going to enjoy ripping the wrapping off this one!" he explained teasingly.

Monica tilted her head towards him, so he could kiss her lightly. "Don't tell me you're going to want to shake me next?"

"Sweetie, when we get home, the whole world is going to shake," he grinned.

"I'm counting on it," she grinned.

The next ten minutes seemed to drag on for hours. The tension was unbearable, the air around them seeming thick and heavy with strange combination of nervousness and excitement. Monica almost felt drunk on it, and she was sure Chandler did, too. They had remained content with cuddling, occasionally kissing, in the back of the cab, too nervous to do anything more in front of their surly cabdriver.

After a several eternities had passed, they finally reached Chandler's block.

Upon seeing his apartment building sliding into view out the window, Chandler said a silent prayer in thanks and shot a grin at Monica, who smiled back just as widely. "Almost there, baby."

"I know," she answered back, quietly, her tone anxious.

He began counting the bills to pay the driver, not wanting to waste any more time when they got to their destination than they had to. Despite the cabbie's bad mood and less than stellar customer service skills, in his deliriously happy state, Chandler handed him a twenty dollar tip.

The second the cab spun to a halt, the door was opened in a flash and Chandler leapt out of the door, helping Monica out of the cab. As soon as he was able, Chandler wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers, the soft scent of her shampoo overwhelming his senses. As they walked he feathered kisses on her head every few steps, unable to help himself.

They swiftly entered the building, keyed into the front door and with some difficulty, managed to stumble up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, hindered by their refusal to disentangle themselves from one another.

By the time they reached their floor, they were heavily groping and kissing. Chandler was immensely grateful they ran into none of his neighbours. It would require explaining he didn't have the patience to deal with at that moment. He wrapped his arms around Monica, kissing her neck as they approached his front door.

As Monica dug in her purse for his keys – she had been carrying them for him – he pressed her back against the wall, kissing her. She giggled, "You're making it very hard for me to get the keys, you know! You wanna get inside, don't you?!"

"God, yes," he groaned, tearing his lips away from hers, contenting himself with wrapping his arms around her from behind, and tracing abstract patterns with his fingers on the hips of her dress impatiently.

Finally, Monica held up the key triumphantly. Chandler sighed in relief, taking it from her, and opened the door one-handedly, pulling her through the entryway as soon as it was open and slamming it behind them.

He didn't even bother to flip on the lights. They immediately began backing towards the bedroom, relieved they were home free. Finally there were no more interruptions! Chandler almost considered unplugging the phone just to be sure, but decided that would seem paranoid.

In their haste to get to the bedroom, Chandler tripped on one of Michelle's toys lying on the floor. "Ah, shit," he cursed, "What the hell was that?"

"You stepped on Sparkle," Monica laughed, "Did you break anything?"

"I don't even care," he groaned. "Michelle can kill us later," he told her, kissing her deeply, quieting any response and pulling her into his room. "Us now. Michelle later," he told her.

"Mmm. Deal," she agreed, falling onto his bed, giggling when he crawled on top of her. The feel of his weight pressing her into the soft mattress was a welcome combination of safe and stimulating.

"Love you." The simple but meaningful statement almost brought tears to Monica's eyes. Those words, and the fire in his beautiful blue eyes, were all she needed to know in that moment.

They were in for a long night. Not that she was complaining.

xx

_Yes, yes, the next chapter WILL cover the sex, if anyone is interested in that :)_

_After a nudge, a push and a shove someone (you know who you are :P) has convinced me to take a shot at full on sexy times. So I'm gonna try! If that's the kind of thing that's liable to bother you, I suggest you skip the next chapter. Nothing all too crucial to the plot will be happening. Just fluff and sex, so if you are uncomfortable, I promise you aren't missing anything._

_Thank you all for the overwhelming response to the last chapter, also! I was very pleasantly surprised by the huge amount of support! The reviews, each and every one of them was so nice, and really boosted me to get this one done quicker than I would have. I'm done in less than a week, five days even, and it's huge at over 9000 words! That's 3 essays worth of words :P I was wondering if anyone would make a correct guess as to who was at the door, but no one did, boo :( If you were paying close attention it was right there in the chapter :)_

_Anyway, review this one, too, and let me know what you think. It benefits both of us: Reviews = Happy Kristy, Happy Kristy = Faster Chapters. Sounds logical, no? If not, I was never good at math. I blame that._


	10. Chapter 10

**Listen to Your Heart - Chapter Ten**

xx

_This chapter contains sexually suggestive material. If you are uncomfortable with that, please skip this chapter, the story will resume in the next chapter. Don't worry, if you decide not to read, nothing crucial to the plot will happen in this chapter and you will be able to pick up in the next without having missed anything. Thanks for reading! :D_

xx

Monica smiled into Chandler's eyes as she felt his weight press into her. When it hit her that this was it, there were finally no more interruptions, she almost squealed in her excitement. Instead, she contented herself with pulling Chandler's face towards her so she could reach to kiss him. She threaded her fingers through his hair, guiding the action, sighing when she felt his tongue enter her mouth timidly, brushing against her own.

As much as he adored the feel of her lips against his, Chandler wasn't content with the simple contact for long. The feel of her soft, feminine curves beneath him, pressing against him reminded him of what they were doing. He could feel the firm peaks of flesh, raised on her chest, through the material of her dress, reminding him that she wanted this as much as he did. He praised a higher power, pleased she hadn't worn a bra.

Fighting down his extreme arousal, Chandler forced himself to remember that he wanted this to be special, a quick romp in the sack was fine, good even, but not now. If Monica wasn't going to be able to control herself and keep her emotions in check, he would make sure he did. For both of them.

That thought in mind, he shimmied down her body, and they both groaned at friction. He smiled faintly as her groan ghosted across her lips; he loved that he had that effect on her, that it was his name she was going to be moaning tonight.

As he moved down her body, he feathered soft kisses along her neck and shoulders, gently licking her, following each kiss, stopping occasionally to suck on her sensitive, freckled skin. As he descended towards her shoulder, she reached up to push the strap down, impatiently.

Chandler gently kissed the hand, but stopped her, "Not yet, baby. I want to unwrap this present, all by myself."

Monica grumbled, clearly displeased with his decision, "Not too slow, though? I need you," she groaned, "I don't mind if you tear it open! ? Twice we've been stopped today! I don't care if you rip the dress to shreds, I just… need you."

"You'll have me," he promised, "All night. The wait will be _so_ worth it. We're going to look back on this night, and remember how amazing it was, and then all the waiting and wanting will seem like nothing in comparison."

"I know," she grinned, "You're a romantic, you know that, right?"

"I know," he grumbled, with a smile that let her know that he didn't really mind, "Just don't tell Joey, okay?"

"Joey is the furthest thing from my mind, sweetie," she reassured him with a few soft kisses to the top of his head, "I can't think of anything else but you. You're driving me insane! Move along!"

"Yes'm," he agreed, moving further down her body, sitting up, and straddling her, one knee on either side of her. Monica groaned at the loss of his weight pressing into her, and tried to pull him back down by his shirt, but he resisted. He leaned in, cupping a breast in each hand, and running his fingers gently over their peaks, before moving his head to join them, kissing her through the material. Monica groaned and arched her back towards him, encouraging him. Knowing she enjoyed what he was doing sent a huge wave of satisfaction surging through him, reinforcing his arousal.

As he continued to toy with the hard buds with his mouth, he slid his hands down along her sides stroking her gently, sending a slight shiver down her spine. He reached around to cup her butt, gently squeezing it through her dress. The action was too much for Monica, who reached up and grabbed his shirt, forcefully pulling him down on top of her, his body weight pressing her pleasantly into the bed. Their groins pressed together pleasurably, creating amazing friction.

"Don't be such a tease," she groaned, "You're evil."

He laughed lightly, "I may be evil, but you like it. I can feel it," he told her, nudging her firm breasts with his face, pointedly. She sighed, nodding her head slightly against the pillow, loving that they were in his bed. It smelled like him; a scent she found insanely arousing and comforting at the same time.

Continuing his descent, Chandler slithered further down Monica's body, kissing her stomach, and running his hands down her thighs, feeling the nylon of her stockings. As much as he loved teasing her, he badly needed to feel her bare skin against his fingers.

He ran his hands up her dress, his wandering fingers hunting for the waistband of the material. He was surprised when as his fingers continued their ascent, he found he was stroking her naked skin by mid-thigh. He realized she was wearing thigh-high stockings and the thought of it sent a jolt of excitement through him.

Pushing the hem of her dress up further to expose her soft, gorgeous legs to him, Chandler immediately lowered his face, gripping the top of the stocking in his teeth, and began dragging it down her thigh. Monica moaned at the feel of his teeth grazing her leg, his mouth inches from where she actually wanted it to be. She squirmed impatiently, silently begging for him to remove the flimsy barrier. The action seemed to take far too long for both of them. When he realized it was no longer possible to drag the material any further with his mouth, he kissed her inner knee a couple times, reveling in the feel of her soft skin, before using his hand to pull the stocking the rest of the way off.

When he reached her foot, he told her, "Baby, kick off your shoe, so I can take off your stocking." She could hear the thick arousal in his voice and groaned lightly, immediately fulfilling the request, flinging the stiletto across the room. Chandler raised an eyebrow. Allowing something to be so blatantly out of place was very unlike her. He kissed her inner leg, showing his appreciation for and understanding of her eagerness as he finally removed the stocking.

He immediately began to reach for the second stocking. His fingers had just grazed the hem, when he felt Monica kick her foot, clearly ejecting the other shoe.

Chandler watched it sail across the room and land with a thump, staring at the strewn item for a moment before commenting, his voice husky, "Just wanted you to know, you're insanely sexy when you're messy!"

She smiled, reaching to run her fingers through his hair. "All your fault, you're making me desperate! Stop being such a tease and get me naked faster!" The mental image of Monica naked made him smile inwardly, as he paused in his position, in the middle of dragging the second stocking down her leg. He knew the reality was bound to be even better, and the thought filled him with a renewed vigor. He immediately dropped the material from his teeth and yanked the nylon the rest of the way down her leg, impatiently.

Monica groaned, "That's more like it, sweetie." He quickly settled between her thighs, and she lifted and bent her legs so they were hugging his waist on either side, the thin silken material of her dress and his clothes, still between them. His clothes felt rough and bulky against his skin, thanks to the heightened sense of touch his arousal provided him with.

He returned his lips to hers, and Monica sighed against him, pleased that he had returned to where she could lavish affection upon him. After a few minutes of intense kissing, Monica decided it was her turn to take charge. She gently pulled away, pecking him several times in sweet after-kisses, then gently bit his bottom lip, teasingly. Chandler groaned at the action, and squirmed against her deliciously, rocking his hips slightly into her.

Throwing all her weight against him, Monica used the leverage to flip them over, so she was sitting astride him, straddling his crotch. Grinning at him, and running a hand along the lines of buttons on his shirt, she told him, "Your turn. Someone's wearing too many clothes." She untucked his shirt from his pants.

He nodded slightly, groaning, "Yeah. You're still wearing your dress." He could feel Monica smile against the skin of his neck, where she was currently kissing.

Deciding she wanted to inflict a little torture upon him, like he had her, she ground up against him several times, deliberately. She continued, pleased as he gasped, his body moving with her. Groaning wasn't enough, she wanted to hear him moan her name. Something about the look in her eyes let him know exactly what she wanted, and he applied immediately.

Satisfied, Monica set about undoing his buttons, "There's 12 buttons, here," she told him, teasingly, "How long do you think I can take to undo them?"

Chandler grinned up at her hopefully, "12 seconds?"

"I don't think so, baby," she told him with a shake of her head, "How's 12 minutes sound?"

"Ughhh," he moaned, "Who's evil now?"

"Oh, I am. You torture me, and this is what you get," she informed him, her competitive spirit apparent. She ran a hand down his chest, undoing the first button, pleased when he shuddered. She ran her hands back up his chest, making sure to catch his nipples as she did. Chandler groaned again, mumbling wordless complaints. Monica grinned in satisfaction. "Payback's a bitch, ain't it, baby?"

He swallowed thickly, settling his hands on her waist, "God, yes. Go faster?"

She smiled with a hint of malevolence, "I don't think so, sweetie," she told him undoing the second button, leaning to kiss his exposed collarbone, "We're gonna go nice and slow."

Seeing she wasn't about to change her mind, Chandler reached to the bottom of his shirt, and quickly undid four buttons, before Monica realized what he was doing. She gasped, and slapped his hand, "You're such a cheater, Chandler Bing!"

"But you're going _soo_ slow," he pouted. "Even I went faster than that! God, I'll do anything! Please?" he begged, his tone thick with wanting.

"Well, if you're going to beg… and you'll do anything…" she said, pretending to consider his pleas for her to go faster, before adding breathlessly, "I love it when you beg me. Do it again?"

Chandler purposefully deepened his voice, making it sound thicker and heavier than it already was, "God, please, Monica! I want, no need you so much. I can't stand another second without you pressed against me. Please?" Monica groaned, satisfied, loving the power of her position. She immediately began undoing the remaining buttons, much to Chandler's approval.

As soon as the shirt was unbuttoned, she spread it open, and Chandler sat up so she could push it off his shoulders. The second the garment was loose, Chandler whipped it off, and it followed the way of her stockings as he flung it off the bed. His undershirt soon followed, as Monica snatched the hem, and pulled it over his head as well.

With his naked torso exposed to her, Monica began to press kisses along his chest, tracing abstract patterns along his skin with her lips, until she reached his nipple. He groaned lightly when she licked the area and grabbed her hips, which were still straddling him, his fingers digging into her, as she teased him.

She loved the reaction she was getting from him, and repeated the action on his other side, teasing him with little nips, before soothing the ache she had caused with her tongue. When she decided he had had enough, she pulled back and stared into his eyes, before pressing her torso against his. She gently rubbed her clothed chest against his bare one, pleased with the effect she was having on him. His contented groans and sighs only served to make her desire for him stronger.

They ground against one another, gently, kissing lightly, in their sitting position, her on top of him, rocking in unison, almost as if they were dancing to a silent tune only they could hear.

Monica was so involved in the movement, caught up in how lightheaded and desirable it was making her feel that she scarcely noticed when Chandler rolled them over so she was on her back. His hand immediately began to inch up the skirt of her dress, heading for her waist, searching for an elastic pantyline.

When his hand had reached her hip, and he had found nothing, he looked into her eyes, as if to confirm what he should have already known.

Monica smiled sexily at him, and whispered, "I'm not wearing any, baby."

Chandler grinned broadly at her in response, shaking his head, "How the hell did I not notice this earlier?! All through dinner you weren't wearing any panties?" She nodded in confirmation. He groaned at the mental image, "In the bathroom? God, that is so hot!" She grinned, and placed her hand over his, guiding it towards her midsection.

Chandler groaned as he felt his way under the skirt of her dress, exploring blindly underneath the cloak of the cloth. Having his sense of sight rendered useless, and being forced to focus on only the feel of her seemed extremely sensual. He sighed as he felt the coarseness of her hair against his hand. He moved his hand lower, his fingers dancing gently, teasingly along the crevices of her body, fondling her in the most intimate way possible. She sighed, all sound catching in her throat, not that it mattered, she was sure she wouldn't be able to form a coherent thought to speak, anyway. The feel of him pleasing her in a way that only he was allowed to gave her an incredible surge of satisfaction.

Still, he refused to touch her where she needed him most. She bucked her hips towards him, trying to get him to brush up against her at the angle she needed him, but he pushed her back down by pressing his weight on top of her, careful to keep himself balanced on his elbow so he wouldn't crush her.

He kissed her gently as he teased her, the twin sensations of his tongue and his fingers, moving in separate rhythms against her, slowly but surely heightening her anticipation for the moment they would be together, properly.

When he finally broke the kiss to relocate his affections to her ear, she grumbled breathlessly, "Chandler. You know what I want. Stop being such a…urmmm," she moaned in delight, cutting herself off as his tongue gently traced her earlobe, sucking on it gently, at the same time fingers caught a particularly sensitive area below her dress, "Mmm, sweetie, yes, oh, mmm baby," she babbled, in her pleasure. She could feel Chandler's lips curve against her; she knew how much he loved it when she got vocal.

Chandler sighed into her neck, murmuring against it, his words tickling her ear, sensually, "Are you doing okay, sweetie? Almost there?" She groaned and mumbled incoherently, squirming against him, giving him all the answer he needed. He sped up the movements of his fingers, maintaining the pattern he had formed, his need to help her to her climax reaching an extreme. She was so tense. He could feel her straining and breathing heavily beneath him. The protective part of him that wanted to defend her from even the slightest discomfort needed to ease that for her.

When she finally tipped over the edge into bliss, her feelings of relief and contentedness were so strong that Chandler could feel them, too. The tension seeped out of his bones and he was left with a feeling of utter peace. The little romantic part of his brain liked to think that it was because of their strong emotional bond. Waiting three weeks for this kind of first-time connection was well worth the wait, he decided.

When her body relaxed beneath him, Chandler tightened his grip on her and rolled them onto their sides, intending to give her a minute to catch her breath.

Chandler stroked her damp bangs back from her forehead, "Are you okay?"

Monica nodded, her voice taking on a dreamy quality, "God, yes. That was incredible, baby. I've never had anyone do it like that for me before."

Chandler glanced at her in surprise, "You mean with touching, and ah, fondling?"

Monica nodded, "Yeah. I've had them during sex, before. But never like that. It was amazing. I feel lighter than air. I wish you had felt it with me."

"I did, sweetie. I did," he promised, his shining eyes seeming bluer than they normally did, even in the dimness of the bedroom, "I know it probably sounds lame," he blushed, "But watching you, your face so alive with pleasure… I felt it, too."

"That doesn't sound lame at all," she argued, "I think it's sweet. I love you." He echoed the words, his voice full of sentimentality, proving to her he meant them. They rested in a post-coital snuggle for a few minutes, comfortable just being together, as they waited for Monica's breathing returned to normal. When it did, it was she who instigated the next move.

She flung a leg over Chandler, and pushed him so he was lying on his back, with her on top of him, all of her weight reliant on him. Chandler groaned, as she laid down flat against him, her breasts pushing into his chest, her arms cradled around his head, her hands joined together on top of it, mussing his hair, as she scrunched it, groaning into the deep kiss she had initiated. He moved his arms to cradle her body against his, insuring she wouldn't slip, or try to move from on top of him.

After a few moments he could feel her hands slide from their position, as she relied on him to hold her in place. Her fingers left his hair, trailing down his neck, past his bare shoulders and down his arms, to the side of his chest, finally resting on the sides of his stomach, caressing the bare skin gently.

Chandler was just about to ask her what she was doing, when using one hand as leverage against him to lift herself slightly, she used the other to reach for the buckle on his belt. He immediately moved to assist her, sitting up slightly, so she could straddle him again. He helped her balance her weight on him, so she could use both hands to undo the belt.

Within seconds she had disengaged the buckle and with a couple of impatient yanks pulled the belt free of the pant loops that held it in place. She set to work on the button and zip on his pants, undoing it carefully to avoid catching anything in the zipper.

Monica moaned in satisfaction when his pants split open, and set about assisting him in removing them. She rested her knees on the bed so that her weight was no longer pressing him against the bed and he could raise his hips and she could push his pants further down his legs.

Once they were far enough down his legs that he could kick them off without getting up, she lowered her weight back onto him, groaning in pleasure as their groins pressed together. She lifted herself away from him momentarily, so she could pull her dress up enough that his flimsy flannel boxers were the only thing preventing their bodies from making contact. Though she knew that doing so would probably cause her dress to wrinkle, she didn't care. They ground against one another in pleasure, gasping and sighing.

Chandler sat up fully and reached for her shoulders kissing them gently as his hands worked the zipper on the back of her dress, undoing it, just as slowly as he had promised her he would earlier in the night. Monica groaned at the feel of the garment loosening around her, and squirmed sensually against him.

After what felt like several, long, agonizing minutes the zipper reached the end of its track. Monica shivered, as Chandler slipped a hand inside the now backless dress, the soft warmth of his fingers seeming cool against the heat of her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever it caressed.

Her skin was so incredibly soft, he mused, unwilling to remove his hand just yet. Besides, he got the feeling she was in no rush for him to do so, despite her earlier impatience. Monica moaned and arched into him, rubbing her chest into his. Her eyes meeting his, she silently begged him to remove the dress.

She lifted her arms and stared at him, sexily. Feeling an overwhelming combination of awe and arousal, Chandler reached for the hem of the dress, slowly, torturously, dragging it upward, lifting it over her head. It was quickly thrown over the edge of the bed. Monica briefly considered the wrinkled, inside-out mess of a dress she would find in the morning, but the thought seemed insignificant, with the way Chandler was staring at her, slightly opened-mouthed, like she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. She paused, unsure whether he was even allowing himself to breath in his reverent appreciation of her. She sat still, allowing him to indulge in the naked sight of her, feeling immensely satisfied that she could inspire that kind of reaction.

Chandler wrapped his arms around her waist loosely, groaning at the feel of her bare skin against his forearms. When he finally found his voice again he pressed his lips against her ear, his voice husky with arousal, "You're gorgeous. So beautiful."

He released her and immediately moved to cup her breasts. She groaned and pressed herself further into his touch, as elated with his ability to touch the bare skin of her chest as he was. He ran his fingers gently over the sensitive buds, a strong sense of satisfaction filling his mind as fulfilling her every need and desire became his top priority. He knew, as long as she was happy and it was his doing, he would need nothing more.

Monica immediately clued him into what she wanted, lifting herself off of him and lying provocatively on her back, on the bed, her legs spread slightly, inviting him to lay between them. He stared at her for a few moments, in awe of her form, his eyes running up and down her beautiful body, caressing her visually, as his hands ached to do so physically. He finally moved to touch her, unable to believe that was allowed to, that she actually _wanted_ him to.

He laid on top of her, pressing his hardness against her, letting her feel what the sight of her had done to him. She moaned, and pulled him flush against her, so their chests rubbed together sensually. They both groaned when their nipples caught and tweaked on the other's skin.

After a few moments of rubbing their bare torsos together, Monica's hand began to descend to his waist, searching for the elastic of his boxers. Understanding her intent, Chandler rolled them over, so he was underneath her, and she could pull the last garment remaining between them off of his body without him having to climb off of her and remove it himself.

He lifted his hips and she yanked the flimsy cloth garment down his legs, sending it careening over the foot of the bed with a toss. She groaned as she got an eye-level view of how aroused he was, and unable to resist, she shimmied forward, and placed a gentle kiss on him.

He groaned deep in his throat at the soft sign of affection and canted himself on his arms, so he was looking down at her, his enjoyment written all over his face. The soft expression in his eyes was what convinced her to go for it.

She kissed him, trailing kisses down the length, following each kiss with a short lick. Gaining more courage from his positive responses, she worked faster and cupped him in her hand, occasionally looking up from her position, needing to see his face, contorted with pleasure.

Finally, deciding she was ready, she moved to take him into her mouth, but stopped before she could do anything more than kiss the tip open-mouthed, too nervous to follow the action through. As much as she loved him and felt secure in their relationship, she hadn't really had a lot of experience in that area and felt suddenly insecure in her ability to please him in that way.

Seeing her hesitance, Chandler, touched her shoulder, caressing it, encouraging her and reminding her of his presence. Seeing she was still proceeding cautiously, he pulled her up to his eye level, so they were lying naked, side-by-side. He kissed her gently, reassuring her that her tentativeness was unimportant.

"You don't have to, baby," he said supportively, "I'm happy with you like this," he cupped her bare bottom gently, "I love you, okay?"

"I know," she agreed. "I love you, too," she told him, a soft smile lighting her face. Relieved and re-energized, she moved her hand to cup him and gently began to stroke his length.

He flopped back against the pillow, his arms wobbling beneath him, unable to support his weight as pleasure swelled throughout his body, surging from the spot where her hand was wrapped around him.

He groaned and grunted unintelligible words of encouragement, fumbling his hand to her hair, stroking it in reassurance. The small gesture, touched and comforted her and she moved her fingers faster, wanting to see him fall into bliss, like he had helped her do.

She watched his face twist and contort in pleasure, his words from earlier, about how he felt when doing the same to her, suddenly snapped into focus. She knew exactly what he meant when he explained how he had felt the intensity of the act through her reaction. She felt it, too.

Feeling a desperate need to be closer to him, she leaned against him, so she could kiss him lightly, as she continued her movements. He reacted favourably, returning the kiss, and deepening it, the hand that had been stroking her hair was now cupping her face, brushing away strands of stray hair whenever they would fall on her face.

Suddenly, he pulled away from her lips, uttering her name in a choked whisper. Realizing what he was trying to tell her, she redoubled her efforts, speeding up her actions. She felt him tense beneath her and topple into his climax, his responding groan affecting her more deeply than any of his previous ones.

When he had relaxed in her arms, Monica pressed herself against his side, throwing a leg over one of his, resting her head on his chest, contentedly listening to his heart beating rapidly. When it seemed to have slowed to a manageable pace, she told him, "You were right, earlier, sweetie. Feeling that… with you… knowing I helped you feel that way; it was the best feeling in the world." She kissed his chest lightly, "Makes me wonder how much better the real thing is going to be?" she questioned teasingly, gently scratching her nails against his chest mischievously.

He groaned slightly at the thought, and tried to focus on anything but her soft body pressed against his – her breasts pressing into his side, her soft lips on his skin – wanting to let his body have a chance to recover. Still breathing heavily, he questioned hopefully, "Give me a minute and we'll find out?"

She nodded, kissing him again, "Promise?"

"Yeah," he sighed blissfully, continuing in a more serious tone, "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No," Monica hummed against his chest, squirming so her breasts were pushed tightly against him, so he could feel the hard buds perched atop them pressing into his skin.

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the question he wanted to ask, willing his mind not to wander, to the feel of her body against his, "Why were you so nervous earlier? Was it something I did?" he questioned, concerned, his brow creased. He hated to think that something he had done had made her uncomfortable.

"No," she told him, her cheeks flushing, "It's nothing you did. I wanted to… but…" she trailed off, before continuing more bravely, "I've only ever done it with a couple boyfriends… and well, the last one I tried it with, Kip, he said I wasn't any good at it," she explained embarrassedly, "I didn't want you to think that I was totally inexperienced and had no idea what I was doing and end up ruining the whole night for both of us."

"I wouldn't think that, baby," he explained, stroking her bare shoulders, "If you never want to do it, that's fine. I was just curious."

"It's not that I don't want to," she explained. "I'm just nervous, and I don't want to disappoint you. I think all I need is some practice," she suggested.

"I think, I could help in that department," he told her, with a reassuring smile, "We have the rest of forever to try new things together."

"Oh, good," she nodded in agreement, adding with a slight smirk, toying with him, "It seems like part of you is ready to try something new together, right now."

He nodded in agreement as she continued to stroke his body. He duplicated the actions on her, bringing her arousal back to the surface of her body. He could feel the heat coming off her in waves. He tentatively stroked her breast, fondling her, softly.

He took her enthusiastic response as his cue to escalate their affections. She rolled slightly, allowing him to slip between her legs. They stayed in that position for a moment, staring into one another's eyes, reassuring the other that this was what they wanted. They could read in one another's eyes how desperate they were to be as close to one another as possible, in the most intimate of acts.

Slightly nervous, wary of breaking the mood they had cultivated, Chandler wondered hesitantly, "You're on the pill?"

Monica nodded, licking her lips and hissing a soft, "Yes," as she reveled in the feel of their bodies pressed so closely together. Reassured, Chandler kissed her gently on the chin, then more deeply on the lips, maintaining the kiss as he eased into her. They both sighed at the contact, their bodies tingling with passion for one another, feeling more alive than they ever had before.

The feel of her soft warmth wrapped around him was better than he could have imagined. They seemed to fit together perfectly. It felt natural and beautiful as he moved against her, gently. The sound of her moans encouraged him, spurring him on further in his quest to please her.

She groaned and pressed herself up against him harder, needing to envelope him completely. She squeezed gently, and groaned as she felt his hiss of pleasure reverberate through her. She settled comfortably against him, enjoying the skin on skin contact and wrapped her legs solidly around his waist.

Sighing, wanting to feel his lips pressed against hers, she pulled him down by the neck so she could reach to kiss him. They stared into one another's eyes for a moment, lost in depths of blue, before allowing their lips to meet.

They met one another's movements as they kissed, eager to go deeper and feel more. Each thrust was met with pleasured gasps and breaths, which sunk noiselessly into their kiss.

Chandler sighed, allowing his thoughts to drift to how perfect this moment felt. He wanted to emblazon how he was feeling at that moment on his memory, so he would never forget it. He had only been with a relatively small number of women over the years, but this one topped them all. He could never remember feeling this perfect and utterly content with any of the other women he had been with, especially not their first time together.

As hopelessly romantic as the notion was, Chandler wondered if it was because, in some special way Monica had been meant for him, and they were destined to be together. He brushed aside the thought, not caring how he had found her, wanting to focus solely on the woman beneath him and how she was making him feel at that precise moment.

Monica couldn't have agreed more. As torturous as the seemingly never ending wait leading to intimacy had been, she decided that since it had brought them to this moment, it was entirely worth it. Nothing could be better than how she was feeling now, loved and desired, equally. Monica had never really considered herself much of a romantic person, at least not more so than an average woman, but at that moment she truly felt like a character out of one of Rachel's romance novels, and was enjoying every second of it.

She threw her entire being into the man above her, adoring the safe feeling of love and comfort it provided her with. She thanked her lucky stars that Rachel had run into Chandler at Bloomingdale's that day. The thought that she and Chandler might have never happened if it weren't for that coincidence scared her; the idea of missing out on how complete she was feeling, now, was unfathomable.

Forcing away her thoughts, Monica focused on the feel of Chandler within her and the pleasure they were providing one another. She groaned his name, feeling a strong sense of fulfillment as he echoed hers back.

Chandler watched his girlfriend beneath him, as she bucked to meet his every movement, her head thrashing lightly against the pillow. He reached to cup a breast and help her body towards the goal it was desperately seeking out.

She groaned in approval, motivating him to nudge her, closer still, to release. He lowered his hand, gently stroking the area where they were joined, causing Monica to thrash against him more wildly, and wrap her legs tighter around his waist, as she finally exploded in pleasure. The feel of her contracting beneath him sent him careening over the edge, as well.

He flopped against the sweaty skin of her chest, tired from the exertion. She hugged him to her tightly, stroking the sweat dampened hair away from his forehead. They rolled so that they were both lying on their sides, Monica spooned against Chandler, his arms wrapped protectively around her.

After they had both had sufficient time to recover enough to be able to talk, it was Chandler who spoke first. "Oh my God, words can not describe," he sighed into Monica's neck, his breath warm against her sweaty skin.

Monica turned in his arms, so she could see his eyes. "I know. It was incredible. You're incredible," she told him, twisting so she could peck him on the lips, running a hand through his dampened hair.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, reveling in their closeness and heightened attunement to one another, before Monica broke the comfortable silence, "How are we ever going to top that?"

"We'll manage," Chandler promised with a grin, "We still have the whole night together. I don't want to waste any of it. We don't have to pick up Michelle 'til eleven."

Monica raised an eyebrow teasingly, "Eleven? That's a lot of sex. You think you have it in you?"

Chandler grinned, "I don't know, but I intend to find out. I never knew it could get this good. With you, here, it feels like anything is possible," Monica smiled and nodded. "I just know I want to make love to you over and over, until we're both exhausted."

"Sounds like a plan," she promised.

"Ready for round number two?" he questioned hopefully.

"You bet," she agreed, rolling on top of him. The prospect of being exhausted didn't sound so bad as long as he was by her side.

xx

_Thank you very much for reading and (hopefully) enjoying :)_

_I was extremely nervous about writing this chapter, since I've never written full sex, even in a PG-13 setting, like this. I think I managed okay, though, with a little support :) Reviews are extremely important to me for this chapter, in particular, more than any of the previous ones. I really need to know how people are feeling about this direction, so I can gauge whether this is something I should continue to pursue in future stories (maybe even again in this one!) or abandon. Any support, or helpful comments are extremely welcome and encouraged._

_Just a quick note to let you know, a few of my stories are posted on Jana's webpage, including a oneshot not posted anywhere else, at the moment. Also there are a few new stories up by Exintaris, on the site as well, so if you're a fan of reading about sexy times, I'm sure you'll find something you like there, as well :)_

_The story will continue in earnest in the next chapter. See you there :)_


	11. Chapter 11

**Listen to Your Heart - Chapter Eleven**

xx

_**Nine Months Later**_

xx

"Happy Anniversary, baby," Chandler told Monica sweetly, kissing her, as they stood outside his apartment door, poised to enter. They had gone out to dinner for the night, to celebrate their ten month anniversary together, leaving Phoebe at home to babysit Michelle.

"Happy Anniversary," she returned with a matching grin. "It's not over, yet. As soon as we clear Phoebe out and get Michelle to bed, we'll finish the celebrating," she told him with a seductive note in her voice.

He gripped her hand in his tightly, nodding. Their hands still joined, they entered the apartment, surprised to find Ross and Julie sitting on the couch next to Phoebe, with no Michelle in sight. During the past months Phoebe, Ross and Julie, who was his girlfriend once again, had become integrated into the close circle of friends, forming a tight knit group of seven.

"Phoebe," Monica wondered curiously, "What are they doing here?"

Ross huffed, "Gee. What a nice, uh, warm welcome!" Julie patted his back sympathetically, and smiled at the couple as they entered.

Phoebe grinned innocently, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, "I got bored! Joey and Rachel are off on that top secret weekend trip, together, and you guys were out for dinner, so I thought I'd invite Ross and Julie over to hang out for the night."

Chandler looked at her exasperatedly, "Huh. Interesting. What about my four-year-old? You know, Michelle?" He glanced around the room, "Where's she? You know you were supposed to babysit her, right?"

"I know," Phoebe groaned, "but I usually do it during the day! I didn't realize how hyper and, like, crazy she gets at night! So I _finally_ got her into bed at seven," she informed them proudly.

Chandler's eyes widened, and Monica groaned. "Seven?" he wondered, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation, "She's gonna be up at four in the morning, now! I told you her bedtime was nine, Pheebs! It's still 20 minutes to!"

"I know," Phoebe complained. "But she was so bouncy and I needed some peace! Besides, I didn't think you'd be home before nine. And you'd never know," she told them sheepishly.

"Until we were woken up in the wee hours of the morning!" Chandler muttered, sarcastically, under his breath.

Sensing she wasn't going to get off the hook so easily, Phoebe changed the topic in an attempt to distract her friends from her senselessness, "You guys are home early. Restaurant sucked, huh?"

"Nah," Monica shook her head, "It was actually really good. The service was just pretty fast. I still can't believe you'd put Michelle to bed at seven. You've known her for years, how do you not know her bedtime?!" Phoebe groaned, displeased her tactic hadn't worked.

"Well, so-rry," Phoebe snipped, jokingly, "We can't all be automatic mommy material, like you."

"But, still, seven?" Monica grumbled, good-naturedly, "She's gonna be waking me and Chandler up at insane hours of the morning!"

"In our defense," Julie interjected, including Ross in her statement, "Phoebe just called us over to hang out. We had no idea she was babysitting Michelle, until you got home, just now." She and Ross stared at Phoebe pointedly, but the bubbly blonde just shrugged, not bothered.

Chandler sighed and rolled his eyes. Monica grabbed his hand, pulling towards his daughter's room, "Come on, honey, let's go give Michelle a kiss goodnight. It's too late to bother waking her up now, the damage is done."

"Yep," Chandler sighed, a slight annoyed tone to his voice, "face it, we're waking up at four tomorrow, no matter how we play this one. Thanks, Pheebs," he drawled, with a sarcastic lilt, "Next time we want to wake up before the sun, we'll know _just_ who to call!"

"What do you need all that extra time for, anyway?" Phoebe called after them, giggling, "Were you planning to try and best the night of seven times, tonight?" When Monica and Chandler halted in their tracks on their way to Michelle's bedroom, their faces flaming red, mouths open wide in shock, Phoebe explained, "Yeah, yeah, Rachel told me. Hot stuff, stud," she told Chandler winking at him. He flushed deeper and pulled Monica into Michelle's room, placing a door securely between himself and Phoebe and Julie's giggles.

"Ugh, Pheebs," Ross complained, "I so, did not, uh, need to know that about my sister!" The girls just laughed and shook their heads. "Or Chandler," he added, with a grimace.

In Michelle's room, Monica and Chandler were tucking her in and kissing her good night. Phoebe had left on the lamp on her night table, because Michelle was still afraid of the dark, so there was still plenty of light in the room so they could see.

Monica grabbed Shell from where he had fallen off the bed, and tucked him back into Michelle's open arms, while Chandler pulled the blanket up to her chin. Thankfully, it seemed Phoebe had had the foresight to get Michelle into her PJs.

Monica kissed her gently on the hair, first. Chandler watched the now common occurrence with a smile on his face, the obvious affection between his daughter and girlfriend never got tiresome, no matter how often he witnessed it. He quickly pecked Michelle as well, pulling her blankets just a little bit higher, before crossing to the foot of her bed, where Monica was waiting for him.

"You think it's safe for us to go out there, yet?" Chandler wondered, only half-teasing, as he wrapped his arms comfortably around her waist and tilted his head towards the door.

Monica shrugged, pretending to ponder the question. "Only one way to find out," she told him, already moving to disentangle herself.

He stopped her, wrapping his arms tighter around her, so she couldn't move, and she nearly stumbled in her heels, but he caught her, "Wait, before we step back out into abject chaos, I just wanted to say I love you, and happy anniversary."

Monica grinned at the sweet sentiment. "Same to you," she told him, "I love you, too, honey." He smiled and pulled her into a gentle embrace. The instant their lips touched they got swept up, immediately intensifying the kiss. Monica's arms winded themselves around Chandler's neck, as she held onto him to maintain her stability.

After a minute, it was Chandler who pulled away sheepishly, mumbling, "Maybe it's best we don't do this in my daughter's room?"

"Yeah," Monica agreed with a sigh, running his tie through her fingers, seductively, "Later."

She squeezed his hand and they walked back out into the living room, surprised to find that Joey and Rachel had joined the assemblage in the living room.

Chandler groaned, mumbling to his girlfriend, "Now we've got to clear out two more?! We're never going to be alone!" He sighed deeply, and Monica rubbed his back consolingly.

"Thank God, you're here!" Rachel exclaimed, rushing towards them, "We've got big news to share with you all! We didn't wanna say it, until everyone was here!"

"Dude!" Joey cried out excitedly, grabbing his former brother-in-law's arm, and dragging him, and Monica who was holding his hand, towards the armchair, and forcing him to take a seat, with Monica in his lap. Ross, Julie and Phoebe were already waiting patiently on the couch.

Once everyone was comfortably settled and staring impatiently at the couple, clearly waiting for them to spill their news, Rachel and Joey moved to stand in front of their friends, exchanging giddy, gleeful smiles. They clasped hands, and Joey nodded that Rachel should share the news.

She grinned more broadly than before, announcing, excitedly, "We eloped!" She hopped up and down on the spot for a moment, Joey's arm around her waist, waving her hand with her wedding ring on it, "You're looking at Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Tribbiani!"

All of their friends sat in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the couple in disbelief, before all bursting into congratulations at once. Rachel grinned wider than any of them, as she reveled in the outpouring of support. They all stopped what they were doing and stared at Ross for a moment, Julie looked especially nervous, but he reassured them all, offering a soft, sincere, "Congrats, guys." Julie squeezed his hand, relieved.

Monica was the first to rush up to hug her and Joey. The others all followed suit, even Ross. He clapped Joey on the back in a friendly way, "Congratulations, man. Take good care of her? She's special." Joey nodded, mumbling his appreciation and gave him a friendly 'guy' hug.

"Congratulations, honey!" Monica told her, "You guys are gonna be so happy! I can't believe you eloped, though! Where did you go on your trip? When did you get married?"

"Vegas, baby!" Joey cried out, "It was the best weekend ever! Food, gambling and honeymooning, all weekend long!"

"How come you didn't tell us you were going to Vegas?" Phoebe pouted, "We could've come along and gambled while you guys were off doing, like, married stuff."

"Because we wanted to be alone, Pheebs," Rachel explained, "A concept that is apparently foreign to this group."

"I can't believe you're married, dude," Chandler told his best friend, "I think it's awesome. Surreal though!"

"Yeah," Joey agreed, "Tell me about it! I was in the shower, this morning, with Rachel, and I caught sight of my ring when I grabbed the soap, and it was like I suddenly realized we were actually married! I love it already!"

Rachel smiled, overhearing their conversation, "You better," she told him.

"Yes, dear," Joey promised, smiling at his best friend knowingly, nudging him conspiratorially, "Check it out! How much of a husband am I?"

Chandler smirked, "You're asking me?"

Joey looked at him incredulously, "You've been married, man! Any tips?"

Chandler shrugged, "Why would you want tips from me? My marriage crashed and burned! I've been with Monica longer than the entire length of my marriage!"

"Chandler," Joey sighed, "How many times do we have to tell you that you were an amazing husband and father? There was nothing you could have done. Look at how much Angie is missing out on by not being here! Of course I'd love any advice you have for me!"

"Thanks, man," Chandler replied with a wistful smile, "But there's nothing I can teach you. You're a good guy, and you love your wife. That's all it takes to be a good husband."

"Dude," Joey grinned, the syllable rising and falling as he emotionally grabbed Chandler in a tight hug. When he finally pulled away, he wondered, "So… when are you and Monica gonna take a walk down the aisle?"

Chandler sighed, "I love her. I'm just not sure we're ready for that, yet. She is so amazing… and Michelle loves her so much. She would be the first to advocate us getting married. I just don't want to push it, you know? We're happy now."

"Hey, man," Joey agreed, "I hear you. Getting married always seemed like a far off thing to me, too. Not too long ago, either. Like, something to do when you 'grow up,' but, we're 27, now. I know I've only been married a day, but if anything, it's made my relationship with Rachel better! The sex? Better than ever. Knowing we both want to spend forever together, and having the proof of that? Awesome feeling."

"I know," Chandler nodded, glancing at the back of Monica's head with a thoughtful expression. He watched her for a moment as she and Rachel chatted excitedly about the details of the wedding, before explaining to Joey, "It's not that I don't want to get married, again. I do! So much. And if it would be to anyone, it would be to Monica. I can't even imagine myself with anyone else, now."

Joey clapped him on the back, adding in agreement "Me neither, dude. You were with my sister for two years, and I thought if you were ever with another woman, it would be in a way I'd have to kick your ass for… but Monica is more Michelle's mother than Angie is, now. Angie gave that up, without even a fight! I love my sister, but I hate her for what she did to you… and especially Michelle. Monica would never do that. I know people say you should 'never say never,' but, dude, Monica wouldn't. The woman takes dedication to a new level. She loves both you and Michelle so much."

Chandler smiled at his best friend, touched by his passionate words, "Thanks, man. I know we give you grief for being a little, well 'Joey' sometimes, but that was really good advice."

Joey shrugged at him casually, as if to say 'I didn't do anything special.' They were about to hug, when Rachel cut in, "If you two girls are about done gossiping, we're about to head to the Plaza for drinks!"

They looked at one another sheepishly, and froze, deciding a hug might be a little too 'unmanly,' "What'dya say we get a beer?" Joey said gruffly, deepening his voice.

"And go buy tools," Chandler added, in a similar tone. Joey nodded moving towards the girls. Joey seemed poised to walk past Chandler, but before he could pass him, he grabbed him in a hug, wrapping his arms around him.

Pulling back a little embarrassed, Joey was quick to explain, a sheepish expression on his face. "Oops, I tripped," he said, adding hastily, "How about that beer?"

xx

"Are you sure, Michelle is okay with that Oliver guy?" Monica wondered worriedly, "I hate to think of her alone with some stranger!" They were at the Plaza, celebrating Joey and Rachel's marriage with champagne.

"Relax," Chandler told her, stroking her back, "She's fine. He's a good guy… a retired teacher, I think. He and his wife are always bringing over carrot cakes. Trust me, she's in good hands."

Joey leaned over from his seat next to Rachel, interjecting, "Oliver? You mean the crazy old British guy who lives downstairs and is always trying to get Michelle to talk 'proper?'" He made funny air quotes, his face twisted in distaste.

"Joey!" Chandler scolded, "He's nice. Michelle likes him."

Joey shrugged. "Maybe. I just get the feeling he doesn't like me very much sometimes. He always glares at me when he sees me with Rachel! He gives me the creeps!"

"Calm down!" Chandler told him, "You guys are married now. You're official. It's not like Rachel's gonna leave you because our downstairs neighbour thinks it's weird! So get a glass of champagne and do some reveling, okay? Rachel loves you."

"Yeah, baby!" Joey agreed.

"I heard my name!" Rachel told them, turning in their direction, breaking away from her conversation with Julie, Ross and Phoebe, "What are you guys talking about?"

"How amazing you and me are together!" Joey told her with a grin, wrapping an arm around her lovingly.

She nodded, cuddling against him. "We are pretty amazing. There's an idea, Julie came up with," Rachel smiled at the other woman, "that I wanted to share with you, maybe see if you wanted to do it. Anyway, she suggested that we have a reception to , like, properly celebrate our marriage. Since we're already married, it seems kinda dumb to have another ceremony."

"Oh!" Joey agreed, "That sounds cool. I want the whole world to know you're Mrs. Rachel Tribbiani!"

"And the best part," Rachel added gleefully, "we get all the presents and only a fraction of the wedding costs!"

"You know you can't exchange those, right?" Ross chimed in helpfully.

"I know," Rachel snipped, huffing, "That's what bridal registries are for!"

Ross reached to slap Joey on the shoulder, "Good luck with that one, man. Rachel's going to drive you nuts picking out lamps and gravy boats. How did you even manage to pick out that ring for her?"

Joey shrugged, "We went shopping together, after we got married. Went to a couple of jewelry stores, Rachel picked out the one she wanted and I bought it. Piece of cake." A grin took over his face at the thought of the dessert food.

Ross nodded, "You got off easy, then! I remember with Carol it took weeks of hints and nudges to even get an idea of what she wanted! How was it when you went ring shopping for Mary Angela, Chandler?"

Chandler shrugged, "It wasn't as bad as I expected. I already knew what kind of jewelry she wanted, we actually used to talk about that kinda stuff. She even had this big book of, well, basically, like clippings of dresses and rings and stuff. I managed to sneak a peek of the scrapbook and get a good idea of what she was looking for." He was surprised when Ross laughed, "What's so funny about that?"

"Sorry, it's not that, it's just Monica has something really similar! You so have a 'type,' man! They even look kind of alike, it's no wonder people always think Michelle is both of yours. Now the wedding book, too? Monica's is a little more detailed, though. It has locations and it's all listed alphabetically and cross-referenced! I haven't seen it since I was 12, but I bet you she still has it hidden somewhere!"

"She does," Rachel interjected, careful to make sure Monica was still engaged in her conversation with Phoebe and Julie, "It's in the window seat." Ross nodded and pointed to Rachel in proof, as if to say 'see?' "Anyway," Rachel continued, "I gotta go to the bathroom, I'll be back in a few minutes."

Sounding almost excited, ignoring Rachel's excusal, Ross addressed Chandler, wondering, "Are you and my sister thinking about… you know?"

Chandler flushed, "Why does everyone keep saying that? You and Julie have been together nearly as long as us. Are you guys ready to get married?"

Julie, bored of the conversation with the girls, decided to interject their thoughts into the men's conversation. "What are you guys talking about over there?" she chimed in.

Chandler smiled evilly at Ross, "Oh nothing. We were just wondering if you and Ross were next to the altar, weren't we Ross?" Ross made a weird choking noise in his throat and glared at his friend.

"What about you and Mon? You guys seem so in tune!" Julie told him with a friendly smile, unaware she was reinforcing the statements of several others before her. Chandler slapped his hand to his forehead and Ross laughed, covering it with a cough when Chandler lifted his face from his hand to glare at him.

"What?" Julie inquired, concerned, "Did I say something wrong?"

"It's nothing. Chandler here can't hear that one enough, is all," Ross snorted, smirking at his former roommate. Chandler scoffed.

"Sorry Chandler," Julie apologized, "People been hitting you and Monica hard with hints, then?"

"Something like that," he sighed, "Why not you and Ross?"

"I don't know" Julie shook her head, and addressed Ross, "What do you think, honey? Where do we stand on the whole marriage thing?"

"Ah, yes," Ross groaned, "The question every guy wants to answer. Thanks for the deflection, Chandler!"

Chandler slapped him on the arm, pretending to take the thanks seriously, "No problem, buddy!"

Julie smiled at her boyfriend, sincerely. "One thing I've gotta say, though, honey… you're handling all of this very well." He could read the uncertainly in her eyes and knew instinctively what she was talking about.

He leaned over to grab her hands and whisper so only she could hear, "I love Rachel, yeah, but," he continued before Julie could interject, "I'm _in_ love with you. I want Rachel to be happy, and Joey makes her happy. We'll talk later, okay? I just wanted you to know that much."

Julie smiled at him and squeezed his hands which were still holding hers. They both turned to listen to the conversation that had taken over the rest of the group (including Rachel who had returned from the bathroom) regarding the reception Joey and Rachel were planning to have for their marriage. They seemed to be bouncing back and forth ideas for the event.

"And this way," Joey commented, sounding surprisingly rational, "everyone gets to share in on our joy! And our parents can't complain too much about not seeing the ceremony."

Rachel nodded, "And I can wear a wedding dress and we can maybe exchange handwritten vows and put on a little almost 'wedding' for friends and family? How's that sound?"

"I love it," Joey told her. "You're gonna knock 'em dead," he assured her, kissing the top of her head, "I can't believe we're gonna get almost married again in a few weeks!"

"Ooh," Phoebe grinned, "Can I provide the music? I'll start writing songs right away! I can see it now!" she waved her hand as if she were reading a marquee above her head, "Eloping and Cantalouping, starring Mr. and Mrs. Joey Tribbiani, with brilliant musical guest Phoebe Buffay!"

Rachel looked horrified, at the same time Joey burst out "I love it!" Seeing his wife's face he quickly changed his mind, a sheepish expression on his face, "Ew, I mean, what?" All the others laughed.

"And cantalouping?" Rachel gasped, slightly open-mouthed, in distaste.

Phoebe shrugged, "It rhymes. Can you think of anything else that rhymes with elope?"

"Soap? Pope? Hope? Cope? Mope? Lope? Trope?" Chandler suggested, helpfully.

Phoebe scoffed, "Okay, okay," she widened her eyes, as if they were making a big deal out of nothing, "'Elope, Joey dropped the soap?'" Seeing their faces she stated, "I'm sensing that's a no. 'Why elope, Elvis is no Pope?' 'Once they elope, now they cope?'" Seeing that they were still not pleased she huffed, "You guys are so hard to please!"

xx

"I can't believe we're at Joey and Rachel's wedding reception!" Monica declared, three weeks later. Joey and Rachel had decided to have the celebration as soon as possible. They had been worried the short notice would mean a small turnout, but the gathering of friends and family was decidedly huge. Rachel had been thrilled, at the thought of how many presents were waiting for her after the celebration was over. "It's surreal!" Monica exclaimed, "Rachel looks so gorgeous in her dress, though! So glad she decided to go with the Vera Wang!"

Chandler scrunched his forehead, "The what?"

Monica laughed and stroked his hair consolingly, as if it was a tragedy he didn't know, "A designer, sweetie."

"Oh!" Chandler shrugged, "Yeah, Rachel looks pretty amazing. So do you, by the way," he told her, slipping his arms around her from behind, "Did I tell you that yet?"

Monica giggled, "Only three times. Can never hear that one enough, though."

Chandler nodded, "If Rachel looks that gorgeous, I can only imagine how you're going to look on our wedding day."

Monica smiled at him, impressed, "Yeah? The thought of that doesn't scare you? I heard you talking to Joey, the night they told us they eloped…"

Chandler tilted his head sheepishly, unaware that she had known about his feelings on that particular matter, "I mean, yeah, a little. But since Joey and Rachel have gotten hitched, everyone seems to be thinking we're next. With that, apparently comes an overwhelming need to tell me this. Yeah, it freaked me out a little at first, but the idea is starting to grow on me. I love you, and I want to spend forever with you. Since the day I realized I loved you, I knew that. We're not ready, yet, but someday."

Monica hugged him, "That's sweet. I feel the same way, you know."

"Good to know," he whispered into her hair, holding her tightly in his arms. After a moment of closeness, he wondered, "Where has Michelle run off to?"

Monica laughed. "No idea. She sure loves to wander off. You're going to have to invest in a GPS tracker just to keep tabs on her. She's probably with the other kids," she suggested looking around the tastefully decorated ballroom.

xx

"Hey, have you seen Michelle around?" Monica asked Rachel.

Rachel shook her head, positively radiating happiness, her tone light and carefree, "Not since Joey and I entered the reception. Chandler was carrying her. She was so cute in her little purple dress though! Aw, and she's my niece now!"

"Yes, yes, Michelle is very cute. Are you sure you-"

"Have you seen the mountain of gifts on the table over there?" Rachel wondered, excitedly, interrupting her best friend, "There must be 250! Easy! I'm so glad Joey comes from a huge Italian family! People I don't even know are coming up to us, giving us huge checks! Do you know how many Jimmy Choos I could buy with the checks I've received today?!" She paused to consider, "A lot!"

Monica shot her an exasperated look, frustrated that she wasn't taking the search all that seriously, "Yeah, yeah, that's great. But we've kinda got a crisis, here. A missing four-year-old? You know, your new niece? Are you sure you haven't seen her?"

Rachel shook her head, again, "No, sorry, Mon. Is she maybe with the other kids?"

Monica shook her head frustrated, "Nope. She's gone AWOL. Chandler's in a near panic. I'm trying to keep him calm, by being calm, but…" she trailed off.

"You're shaking like a leaf. She's fine, Mon," Rachel told her, stroking her arm comfortingly, "She couldn't have gotten far. She's in the ballroom, somewhere. There's an usher-guy by the door. Mishi wouldn't have slipped out past him, he's like a guard dog. Only other way out is through the kitchen. Trust me, she's fine, probably hiding under tables or something, like little kids do."

"You're right," Monica sighed, taking a deep breath in an effort to calm herself down, "Thanks, Rac-" The words weren't even out of her mouth when she spotted Michelle standing in front of the cake, gazing up at it awe. She stood frozen for a moment, staring at the little girl in shock, pleased to have found her. It was only when she began to reach for the cake, Monica raced towards her, her hands on her hips. Following her friend's line of sight, Rachel was close behind.

"Michelle!" Monica called out warningly, as Michelle's hand inched towards the cake, standing on the tiptoes of her shiny black mary janes to be able to reach, "What are you doing?"

Michelle quickly lowered her hand, and spun towards Monica, an innocent smile on her face, "I's not doing anything. Is cake time soon?"

"Yes," Monica told her impatiently, "Cake time will be soon. It's whenever Aunt Rachel decides it is, not when Michelle decides it is. Now come on," Monica grabbed her hand, "you've got your Dad worried out of his mind. We've got to let him know you're alright." They had barely turned around, when Chandler rushed up to them, frantic, his face white.

"There you are Michelle! Thank God!" He grabbed his daughter in a tight hug, before scolding her, "You have got to stop running off, sweetie, you're giving Daddy grey hairs before his time!"

"'S not my fault. You're getting old," Michelle claimed, cheekily. Monica laughed, causing Chandler to shoot her a glare.

"You should hear what your daughter tried to do!" Monica exclaimed.

Chandler returned his gaze to his daughter. Michelle hugged her father again, bestowing upon him her most innocent, angelic smile. "Mishi!" he said sternly, an inquisitive edge to his voice, "What did you do?"

The little girl shrugged her shoulders, sheepishly, so Monica answered instead, "She attempted to sneak a handful of the wedding cake!"

"Mishi!" Chandler admonished, "You know better than that!"

"But I's hungry!" Michelle pouted, "My tummy is growling! And they're taking so, so, so, so long for cake time."

"You're definitely related to Uncle Joey, aren't you?" Chandler sighed, shaking his head, a slight smile on his face.

xx

"Oh, darling, you look gorgeous," Gloria Tribbiani assured her new daughter-in-law, "That dress looks absolutely divine on you. Reminds me of my own wedding, a few decades ago…"

"Our son is a very lucky man," Joe Tribbiani agreed. Joey nodded and squeezed his bride's hand, in agreement.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Tribbiani," Rachel returned, with a blush, "We only hope we're as happy as you two are in 30 years." Joe scoffed.

"Oh, nonsense, dear," Gloria returned with a wave of her hand, dismissing the idea, "Don't wish that on yourselves. Think about the newlywed phase now, worry about the rest later. And call us Mom and Dad, now, we're family. Have you seen Chandler and that darling little girlfriend of his? She looks radiant in that red dress, doesn't she? Since we're family now, you can tell me, do you think we'll be watching them walk down the aisle anytime soon?" She winked as if she thought the answer was a secret.

"I, uh, um…" Rachel stammered, unsure what her friends would want her to answer.

"Not that we saw you and Joey walk down the aisle," Joe complained, a little resentment in his tone, "Is it so much to ask for a proper Catholic wedding?"

"Dad," Joey complained, "Lay off, alright? Rachel's had a rough few weeks planning this reception. We want to just take this time to celebrate. Okay?"

"Okay," Joe agreed, with a grudging sigh. Gloria patted his back, her expression to her son and his wife making it clear she didn't share her husband's views and thought he was overreacting.

Joey and Rachel both grinned in relief, looking at one another with wide eyes mouthing 'Thank God,' when Monica and Chandler walked up and joined the conversation, Michelle in her father's arms.

Michelle, who had been laying her head against her father's shoulder, bored, looked up at the sound of her grandmother's voice, "Grandma! Grandpa!"

"Hey sweetie," her grandparents chorused. "How's Grandpa's Lucky Penny?" Joe wondered, "Did you enjoy the cake, sweetie? Your Daddy told me about earlier," he smiled at her, clearly seeing the humour in the incident.

"Cake is yummy! Strawberries and white choc'late cake is my favourite!" Michelle told him, rubbing her tummy in memory of the cake. Joe smiled at his granddaughter, nodding in agreement.

"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Tribbiani! How are you?" Monica wondered, "I haven't talked to you in a while!"

"We're doing okay," Gloria answered, "The better question is: how are you? A little birdie told us the two of you are thinking about marriage," she nudged Rachel, "Maybe getting ready to give Michelle, here, another little one to play with, hmm?"

Monica and Chandler both flushed, and Chandler shot Rachel a look, she shrugged, motioning that it wasn't her fault, indicating her mother-in-law with sweeping arm gestures, trying to place the blame on her. "I don't know if I'd say that," Monica answered for both her and Chandler, "We're in a good place though, and definitely optimistic about the future." Chandler nodded in agreement with the sentiment, and kissed the top of her head.

Deciding that she'd had enough of being bored with the adults, Michelle wiggled, squirming in her father's arms, until he had to set her down or risk dropping her. The moment her feet hit the floor she was off running.

Chandler sighed, growling and slapping his hand to his forehead in frustration. He did not want to spend another half an hour worrying about his missing daughter. "Not this again! Why do children have feet?" he asked the others, rhetorically, before excusing himself and chasing after his daughter. "Michelle! Daddy is tired of this game! Come back, here, please?" he begged, trying to make the statement sound like a command and not the plea it was.

He chased her around the perimeter of the seating area, groaning as his daughter grinned back at him over her shoulder, clearly enjoying the little game of cat and mouse she had started.

Just as he managed to catch up to his daughter and scoop her into his arms, Chandler stepped off the edge of the dance floor, his shoes catching on the carpet. The change in grip underfoot from the sleek polished wood, to the rough carpeting, altered his sense of balance and sent him flying into a woman just entering the soiree.

Making sure Michelle was firmly in his arms, he scolded her sternly, "Michelle! Do _not_ do that again!" He then turned to the woman he had bumped into, intending to make sure she was okay and offer an apology. When he caught sight of her face he blanched and questioned in a choked voice, "Mary Angela?"

xx

_Thank you all for reading! Here begins the second half of the fic, the 'Mary Angela is back' part! Hope everyone will like it as much as the first half! :)  
_

_Thanks very much to all of you who were brave enough to review the last chapter of the fic. I know a lot of people tend to shy away from reviewing sex, so to those of you that did, your reviews were especially important to me, for giving me some of the feedback I really felt I needed on the matter :) I've decided that I probably won't be doing too many full sex chapters in the future, though, because the feedback isn't overwhelming and a scene here and there is more within my comfort zone :) We'll see where future fics take us, though!  
_

_Anyway, please read and review this one and lift my spirits. My university is STILL on strike after three weeks, and now it's almost Christmas break (less than two weeks) so the end of term is messed up. *sigh*_


	12. Chapter 12

**Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Twelve**

xx

"Mary Angela?" Chandler repeated, his voice strained with shock. He tightened his grip on Michelle to refrain from dropping her. "What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Chandler," she almost whispered, asking pleasantly, "How are you?"

Chandler scowled at her, not pleased with the attempt at small talk, "What are you doing here, Mary Angela?"

Mary Angela looked downcast; he rarely called her anything but Angie, except when they were fighting. "It's my brother's wedding," she answered defensively, "Daddy invited me."

"Joe?" Chandler questioned suspiciously, "But you haven't talked to your parents since you left three years ago!"

"I was scared of what everyone would say about me," she explained, uncomfortable. "I finally worked up the nerve to call Daddy a couple of weeks ago. Mom didn't know. I was going to surprise everyone by showing up here. I wanted to call you, too, but I was too scared of what you'd say. I wanted to apologize. It wasn't fair what I did to you. You deserved that much, at least," she said quietly.

"Who's that, Daddy?" Michelle wondered, looking up at her mother with curious eyes. She kicked her legs a few times in an attempt to get Chandler to put her down, but he held her fast in his arms.

He seemed a little uncomfortable at the question, but answered, hesitantly, "That's Aunt Mary Angela, sweetie. She's Uncle Joey's sister."

'Michelle?' Mary Angela mouthed, staring teary-eyed at the daughter she hadn't seen in more than three years. She hardly resembled her 10-month-old self. Chandler nodded uneasily. Mary Angela reached to stroke her hair, but Chandler turned slightly so he was blocking her access to his daughter, his eyes dark and protective.

"You're pretty," Michelle told her, "Monica is pretty, too."

"Monica?" Mary Angela wondered carefully, with a raised eyebrow.

Chandler sighed, not really wanting to talk about what had been unleashed. He set Michelle down, deciding it would be better if he and Mary Angela talked without their four-year-old present. He turned Michelle to face him, staring into her eyes sternly, making it clear what he was about to say was a demand, not a request. "Go over to Monica, while I talk to Aunt Mary Angela, okay? Do _not_ run off again. You understand?" Michelle nodded solemnly, before skipping off towards Monica.

Mary Angela watched her go, with a proud smile, "I can't believe how big she's gotten! She's four, now! I haven't seen her since she was a baby!"

Chandler glowered at her, "Whose fault is that?"

Mary Angela looked down at the floor, "I'm sorry, okay? You have no idea how much I regret what I did to you and Michelle. The past three years have been misery."

Chandler huffed, "And you think it was all sunshine and rainbows for us? I had to raise _our_ daughter alone for the past three years! At least your misery was your own damn fault. Michelle and I did nothing! Do you have any idea what it was like the day you left? We had been planning to go to the park and I was in love with my wife! Then, I suddenly find out I meant absolutely nothing to her! So don't even _try_ to sell me a sob story, because you were not the one who got screwed! I did! Michelle did! Not you!"

Mary Angela wiped away a stray tear that had dripped onto her cheek. "I'm sorry. I really am! You have no idea. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was never about you. I felt trapped. I was 22 and married with a baby! I had barely had a chance to live my life! I was feeling stifled and didn't know how to cope with that and I panicked. I wanted to come back the second I realized what I was giving up, but I was scared of what you'd say. I missed both of you but I was a coward. It's taken me three years to be able to work up the courage to do this."

"So?" Chandler snapped, careful to keep his voice steady, to avoid drawing attention to them, "I was your husband! 'Til death do us part! Or did our marriage vows mean nothing to you! You could have talked to me! We could have figured something out together that didn't involve you abandoning your entire family! You could have at least left a damn note!"

"I didn't do it because I didn't love you! I did, so much! I still do! Even after three years. I've not found anyone I could love as much as I loved you. I've tried to move on, but I never could! And now I know I've cursed myself, because I don't deserve you anymore!"

"You're right about that," Chandler returned icily, "You don't get the right to ask anything from me."

"I know, you're right, sweetie," she agreed.

Chandler scoffed at the term of endearment, interrupting, "Do not call me that. Just don't."

Mary Angela raised her hands and took a step back, gesturing that she meant no offense, but continued, "Would you please, at least consider us? I know you still love me. If you didn't care about me, you wouldn't bother fighting with me. You don't argue if you don't care. I know you're angry, but you still care about me. I can see it in your face."

"You're wrong!" Chandler returned coldly, "I cared about you once, and it nearly killed me. I'm not going down that road again! I'm not going to let Michelle get to know you now that she's old enough to understand what's going on, only to have you torn away again if you leave!" He sighed, deeply, running a hand across his face tiredly. "We've finally moved on. We're doing okay without you and you come back and turn everything upside-down again! Why can't you just let us live our lives?" he wondered mournfully, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"I know I'm asking a lot from you, honey," she told him carefully, pleased when he didn't flinch at the affectionate term this time, "And I'm so sorry for it. I was a bitch three years ago. I didn't consider what I was doing to you. But I've grown up since then! I wasn't expecting to ask this of you so soon, but when I saw you, it all spilled out and I couldn't help myself. I need you. The past three years I've felt like I was missing a part of myself. I thought I was doing us both a favour, leaving before we got more attached, or maybe had more children, but now I realize that that was a stupid way of thinking. I was already attached. Now that I'm here with you, it's like I feel whole again. I know I don't deserve to ask… but think about us?… Wouldn't it be great if Michelle could have a proper family again?"

"No!" Chandler snipped, "I don't even know you anymore! I couldn't trust you, even if I wanted to!" Mary Angela looked a little hurt by the statement, but nodded in understanding. "How am I supposed to trust someone who would leave her entire family without even a goodbye! Michelle and I are doing better than we ever have and we've done it all without you! We don't need you!"

Mary Angela moved toward him, her eyes imploring him to understand. He backed away not wanting to hear any more apologies. He just wanted to be at home with Monica and Michelle, and pretend none of this had ever happened. "I'm so sorry," she explained as he finally met her eyes, "I shouldn't have done this to you. It was too soon. My feelings got the best of me. I need to prove to you that you can trust me again. And I will! I'll do whatever it takes."

"What's going on here!?" Monica wondered as she rushed up to the pair, "Michelle said you were talking to…" she trailed off as the sight of the other woman confirmed the little girl's story. Monica glared at her coldly, gripping Chandler's hand tightly in support.

"Who are you?" Mary Angela wondered icily, staring at Monica suspiciously, "And what are you doing with my daughter?!"

Monica glared back fiercely and Chandler was worried for a moment that she was going to injure his ex-wife. He quickly wrapped an arm around her so he could restrain her if need be. "Your daughter?" she laughed sardonically. "You abandoned her! You're less Michelle's mother than Joey is!" Chandler suppressed an inappropriate laugh at the odd mental imagery, "Chandler is the only parent she's ever known. And a damn good one! If you know what's good for you you'll just stay away," Monica threatened.

"Look," Mary Angela snapped back, "I don't know who you think you are, but this doesn't concern you. I've made mistakes, but I regret them and I'm trying to apologize for them. So, if you don't mind, go deal with your own problems, and leave me and Chandler to deal with this, okay?" She made little sarcastic waving motions, as if getting Monica to leave was nothing more than an annoyance, "Goodbye!"

Chandler rolled his eyes, not really in the mood to deal with jealousy. He interrupted sternly before Monica could retort back, "Mary Angela, leave her alone. This does concern her, actually. This is Monica, my girlfriend," he explained, with a hint of pride. He couldn't help the trace smugness that overcame him when Mary Angela paled and glanced back and forth between them in hurt disbelief. As childish as he knew it would sound if he were to admit it out loud, it felt good to know he had hurt her after all she had put him through over the years.

"Girlfriend?" Mary Angela wondered in a choked voice, "You've moved on? Already?"

"What, did you think you could just abandon me and come pick me up again whenever you felt like it? It's been three years! Three goddamn years, Mary Angela! You didn't even give our marriage six months! Monica and I have been together for ten months, and we're going to stay together. I love her and she loves me. So, whatever misguided ideas you have about you, me and Michelle being a family… forget them. Monica is our family now. It's not going to happen." Monica hugged his waist possessively, sneering at Mary Angela triumphantly. The other woman averted her eyes, not wanting so see Monica gloat her victory.

"Chandler," she pleaded, glancing at the brunette on his arm spitefully, "She doesn't know you like I do! She can't! We-"

"We nothing," Chandler snipped, "I'm with Monica now. We're over, Mary Angela." Chandler sighed. He squeezed Monica's hand and pulled her towards Ross and Julie who were entertaining Michelle. "That's all there is to it. Have a nice life, okay?"

xx

In the period since the confrontation Chandler's behaviour could only be described as despondent. For the duration of the reception he had become almost anti-social, refusing to dance with Monica, or do anything but follow her wherever she dragged him, careful to avoid his ex-wife. He rarely participated in the conversation or did anything more than walk around in a daze. Even when directly asked a question he would only respond in terse one-word answers. He only put on a happy face when his daughter would pass by, but otherwise remained subdued and pensive. He was so unreachable he was beginning to scare Monica.

After staying at the reception 45 minutes, Monica and Chandler could no longer stand the tension and excused themselves from the party, retreating to his apartment. Monica, with a little help from a distracted Chandler had managed to get Michelle to bed with minimal complaints. The hours of running around the ballroom had tired her out and she was slumbering almost as soon as she was tucked into bed. Both adults were grateful for the quiet time with their thoughts.

Once they were both settled on the couch after getting Michelle to bed, Monica tapped Chandler on the shoulder to get his attention, desperately wanting him to open up to her about his thoughts and feelings. She hadn't thought Joey and Rachel's wedding reception was the time or place, but now that they were home, she hoped they would be able to talk freely. She hated the thought of him dealing with such complicated feelings on his own. "Are you okay, sweetie?" she wondered, softly, stroking his shoulder in a comforting way, letting him know she was there for him.

"Yeah," he sighed sadly, without even looking up at her. He hugged the throw pillow he was holding tighter, ignoring her presence.

Monica wasn't content with the one-word answer. "Are you sure? I know how much Mary Angela hurt you. If you want to talk…" she trailed off, offering an outlet.

"I _said_ I was fine, Monica," he retorted, shortly, still refusing to meet her eyes.

"It just doesn't seem like you are," she told him gently, "I'm here to help. Talk to me, please? If not for you, for me? I want to." She placed her hand on the side of his cheek, gently turning his face towards her, and forcing his eyes to meet hers.

The second their eyes met, he shrugged her hand away, averting his eyes. He knew if he allowed himself to look into her beautiful eyes for too long he would spill his every thought and fear and he wasn't prepared to do that. "I'm fine!" he snapped, "Leave me alone! I don't want to talk about it!" He blinked several times and Monica could see he was fighting back tears. In a calmer, more shaky voice, he added, "Let's go to bed."

She could feel warm, salty tears pricking the backs of her own eyes at the sight of him in such turmoil. She leaned up against him, a tear trickling down her face at the sight of his misery. Wanting to reassure him that she was there for him she told him softly, "I'm sorry. I'm here for whatever you need. I love you."

He sighed unevenly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders in apology. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's nothing you did, it's all me. Don't cry, please? I hate it when you cry."

"I'm not upset that you snapped, Chandler! I'm upset because you're upset. I can't help it. I love you and I can't stand seeing you like this! We're in this together, remember? Just let me in, please? I want to help you."

"Can't we just drop this?" he pleaded, "I know you want to help, but you're only going to get more upset if I share. I don't want to do that to you. So let's just leave it and go to bed, okay?"

"Okay," Monica agreed hesitantly. Even if he didn't want to talk about it now, he would have to sooner or later. Perhaps it was just too recent in his memory for him to be able to open up comfortably, she decided. He probably just needed a little more time to mull over his thoughts to himself before sharing them with her.

He followed her, his shoulders slumped tiredly, as she headed towards his bedroom. They both immediately began undressing for bed. Monica went to his drawers and pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of his boxer shorts for makeshift pajamas, even though she had plenty of her own things stored in his closet. She knew how much he loved it when she wore his clothes and even though the insignificant thing was unlikely to sway him to open up, she wanted to do everything she could, however small, that might help influence his decision.

She dressed quickly in his clothes, loving that they smelled like him, and scooted under the covers of his bed, watching as he stripped to boxers and T-shirt himself before climbing in after her.

Once they were both settled, Chandler placed a hand on her hip and pulled her close enough to peck her, whispering a soft, 'Goodnight.' She returned the sentiment, and reached to flip off the lamp on her nightstand, the only remaining light in the room. As soon as darkness enveloped them, Monica felt Chandler roll away from her, lying on his side with his back facing her.

Not wanting to leave him alone in his unhappiness, Monica rolled over and cuddled up to him, wrapping an arm around him from behind, feeling him tense as she did. She stroked his chest for a moment wondering why he had returned to being so distant before she realized he was shaking with silent sobs, and was clearly trying to hide it from her. She felt a stab of pain at the thought that he would try to hide something that was hurting him so much from her. She continued to gently stroke his chest, comfortingly, wanting him to feel her presence, unsure what else to do to help him.

Deciding keeping quiet was her best option, she remained silent, but kissed him compassionately on his hair, surprised to feel his shaking intensify as she did. Eventually his sobs slowed into small hiccups. After a few minutes he quieted, his breathing returning to normal.

Fighting away tears of her own at the intensity of his emotions, Monica continued to stroke his chest gently, occasionally feathering maternal kisses on top of his head, doing her best to soothe his anxieties without words. Finally, after what seemed like hours, his breathing deepened to a slow and steady lull. Content with the knowledge that he had drifted into a place of happy thoughts and dreams, Monica snuggled against his back and allowed sleep to overtake her.

xx

Chandler awoke the next morning to find the back of his T-shirt damp. Twisting in his girlfriend's arms to find the source of the problem, he caught sight of Monica's tearstained face and the previous night's events shot back into his conscious with a painful thump. The new day and the sight of his girlfriend brought a new clarity to the situation.

The sight of the tear tracks on Monica's face made him feel insanely guilty for what he had put her through the night before. He had been so wrapped up in his own feelings that he had barely considered how she was feeling. He knew she had to feel slightly threatened by his apparent inability to completely get over his ex-wife. Yet, she had spent the entire night comforting him, while he had shunned her feelings in return. He decided as soon as she woke up he would ask her how she was feeling, and attempt to make up for his idiocy.

A warm surge of gratefulness for his girlfriend's compassion and understanding swelled as he hugged her closer to his chest, promising himself that she would never cry because he was an idiot again, even if it meant he had to plaster a fake happy smile on his face for the next two weeks. The movement jolted her, and her eyes fluttered open, meeting his apologetic ones. The first thing out of her mouth was, "Are you feeling better?" As sweet as the sentiment was, it only served to make him feel like a bigger bastard. Why should she care how he was feeling when he hardly returned the same courtesy?

He nodded, hugging her tighter, "I'm sorry I was such a jerk last night. I was freaking out. I didn't realize how badly I was hurting you until I woke up and saw you lying there in a puddle of tears! I'm a huge, huge, huge idiot, and I'm sorry, okay? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Chandler," Monica assured him, "I'm just worried about you. You scared me last night shutting me out like that!"

"I know, I won't do it again, I promise. I didn't handle bumping into Mary Angela very well," he explained as if she didn't know. "I won't do that to you again. I love you," He kissed her, trying to assure her he was fine before continuing in a falsely bright, cheerful tone, "Wanna go shower and get breakfast?"

"Chandler," Monica called after him as he got out of bed and headed for the door, "Don't do this. Just because you're pretending to be happy, doesn't make everything all okay. Come, sit, talk to me. If we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, you're going to have to get used to sharing how you feel with me!"

"What?" Chandler complained, maintaining the façade, "I'm happy, see?" He pointed at his face, which was plastered with a forced smile. "People don't smile if they aren't happy, Mon!" he told her, as if she was being ridiculous.

"They do if they're lying to their girlfriends to get out of telling them the truth!" Monica told him sharply, "I know you're upset! Why don't you want to tell me what's wrong? Keeping your feelings bottled up can't make you feel better. I can," Monica pleaded. Chandler remained stoic. Seeing that he wasn't going to spill, Monica decided she would start the conversation instead, "You cried yourself to sleep last night, Chandler. Don't try and tell me you woke up completely fine."

"You knew that?" Chandler questioned, embarrassed.

"Of course I knew!" Monica exclaimed, "Maybe you weren't sobbing out loud, but I could feel you shaking like a leaf!"

"So?" Chandler shrugged avoiding her eyes, accusing her, petulantly, "You cried, too! I woke up in a puddle!"

"It's not a contest, Chandler," Monica sighed. "I'm trying to help you. But you've got to want to help yourself, first! Come. Sit," she demanded, patting the bed beside her. Chandler moved, following her orders, reluctantly.

"I just wasn't expecting her to be there is all," Chandler told her quietly, his tone defensive as he slid under his bedspread. He looked down at it and began tracing the patterns on it, to avoid looking into her eyes.

"I know, sweetie," Monica assured him, stroking his hair, "You weren't expecting to have to deal with this, now. I know… but it's happened, and I think it would be better for both of us if we talked about it."

Chandler scoffed in frustration. "Why'd she have to show up at all? Who is she to ruin our lives at the drop of a hat? Michelle and I are good! I've finally managed to move on and fall in love with a fantastic woman and she has to show up to ruin everything!"

"Nothing's ruined, sweetie," Monica promised him, "Is that what you were worried about? How this would affect our relationship? We're good, aren't we?"

"Yes," Chandler nodded slightly in agreement, "It doesn't change how I feel about you… but I saw how you got all protective and feisty," he smiled in spite of himself, "when you saw her yesterday. Does it change how you feel about me? You aren't worried you might get hurt and decide I'm not worth the bother?" he question insecurely, "I don't want my ex-wife to mess up everything between us."

"Oh honey!" Monica exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him comfortingly, pleased that he didn't shrug her away like he had done the night before. "Is that why you've been so distant? I wasn't upset with you!" she reassured, "I know you're going to have to talk to Mary Angela about this, and I don't resent you for it. I just don't want to see you or Michelle get hurt! I love you both so much."

Chandler sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I don't mean to be distant," he said in a small voice, sounding very child-like, "It's just you and Michelle are the two most important people in my life right now. I don't want to lose you by driving you away with all my baggage."

"You could never," Monica promised, "I love you and I won't give that up so easily."

Once reassured that Monica would love him no matter what happened, a floodgate seemed to open in Chandler. "Still, who does she think she is just intruding on my life like that?!" he questioned, rhetorically, "If she cared about us at all, like she said she does, she would have stayed away!"

"She made a mistake," Monica suggested, impartially, "She's having trouble dealing with the fact she's never really gotten over you. Love makes people do weird things."

"No! A mistake is breaking a plate. A mistake is spilling some milk! A mistake is not abandoning your entire family and waiting three years to see them again," he raged, "She just showed up out of nowhere on our bestfriends' wedding day! It should have been a happy day about congratulating Joey and Rachel! But all I can think about now is her and how she destroyed my life three years ago! And now… now she's trying to do it again!"

"Shh…" Monica comforted, stroking his back as he ranted, expelling his frustration.

"She says wants us to be a family again!" he growled loudly. "How dare she think that I could even stand to look at her, let alone fall in love with her again! I know Angie, as much as I wish I didn't… I know I hurt her by being in love with you!" he huffed, "But I love you… I don't know what to do, because part of me still cares about her, too! I'm actually sorry that I love you! I know that makes me a horrible person, because you're so amazing, and she's… well, she doesn't deserve anything from me! But I'm feeling sorry for her!"

"I know that you'll always care about her, sweetie, and that's okay," Monica reassured him, "I know you love me now. Don't make yourself feel guilty. That's not doing either of us any favours."

"What if she wants to see Michelle?" he wondered, suddenly sounding terrified, "What am I going to do, then? Michelle stands to get very hurt. I can't introduce her to her mother, only to have her disappear again in a couple months! I don't want her anywhere near our daughter! She doesn't deserved to be called Michelle's mother anymore! You are more her mother than Mary Angela is!" Chandler suggested. Monica fought away her smile. Ever since she had fallen in love with Chandler and realized how much she adored his daughter, that was all she had wanted: to know she meant something to both of them.

"That's understandable," Monica agreed, attempting to facilitate the release of his emotions. She knew it would be better for him to get his feelings off his chest rather than store them up for years like men were prone to do.

"Or worse… What if she wants to take Michelle away from me?" Chandler speculated. "Or tries to use her as blackmail to get me to do what she wants?! You heard how she said she wanted us to be a family again! I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose my daughter either!" he cried, his voice tinged with panic, "Mothers always win in child custody cases! If she tried to take Michelle, I, what would I do? I can't live without my daughter!"

"Shh, honey, slow down, breathe," Monica told him, taking deep breaths and encouraging him to do the same, "Everything is going to be fine. None of those things has happened yet. You might not even see her again. Calm down and play it as it comes, okay? Whatever happens, we'll figure it out together. You are not going to lose Michelle. That little girl adores you. You're the best parent she could ask for and she knows it, as does everyone else that knows the two of you."

Chandler sighed deeply, forcing his panic back down, "Thank you. I'd be a complete basket case by now, without you. You know that?"

"Oh, I know," Monica informed, matter-of-factly. "Don't worry. As long as you want to, you'll always have me," she promised.

They were interrupted from further conversation when Michelle burst into the room still in her pajamas, bounding onto the bed, snuggling herself in between them.

Chandler sighed, whispering to Monica, "At least it's not four in the morning!" Monica laughed, playfully tugging on Michelle's dark pigtail, in welcome, causing her to giggle.

Once the little girl was nestled between her father and Monica, effectively separating them from one another, she settled comfortably on her back, and looked up at them curiously, wondering, "Is Monica in trouble, Daddy? I heard you yelling from my bedroom!"

Chandler smiled at her uneasily. "No, sweetie," he assured her, "Monica isn't in trouble. Monica and Daddy are fine. Daddy was just upset about something that happened yesterday. Adult stuff you don't need to worry about, okay?"

"Okay," Michelle agreed, "Can I have ice cream for breakfast? I's hungry."

"How about I make you breakfast, sweetie," Monica suggested, "We can leave Daddy some time by himself, huh?"

"You always make it healthy!" Michelle grimaced, "Can't Daddy make it? He always makes sure it's got lots of sweet!"

"Daddy's not feeling very good today, Mishi," Monica explained gently, standing up and settling Michelle on her hip as she did, "So we're going to give him some time by himself, okay?"

"Okay," Michelle agreed reluctantly, "Does he have a tummyache?"

"No, sweetie," Chandler assured her, "I'm fine. I just need to think about some things. That's all."

"Is that why you were yelling?" Michelle wondered curiously.

Chandler shrugged sheepishly, answering, "Yes. But just because Daddy did it doesn't make it nice, okay?"

"Okay," Michelle agreed distractedly, her interest in the topic waning and returning to her impending hunger. "Can we have pancakes? With maple syrup?" she asked Monica sweetly, offering her most angelic smile in an attempt to sway her decision.

"You're just like your Daddy, you know that?" Monica told her, as she began walking them towards the door, "I've never met two people who like pancakes as much as you two do! How about we have blueberry buckwheat pancakes? They're healthy and yummy."

"Would Daddy like them?" Michelle wondered, glancing at her father. Chandler nodded and smiled at her, making a face at Monica that demonstrated his objection to her healthy choice, as soon as his daughter turned her back. Monica shook her head. "Okay!" Michelle nodded. Monica echoed the word back to her and shut the door behind them as they exited the room. As she left she shot a brief reassuring smile at her boyfriend.

As soon as he was alone in the room, Chandler flopped back on the bed and sighed. He closed his eyes and tried futilely to concentrate on one of his many swirling thoughts. He could hear Michelle giggling in the kitchen, even through his bedroom door. If only she knew. He wished he had all of her childish innocence. She was so happy… she had no idea her entire world just might be on the brink of chaos. It wasn't fair. He had been happy, too, until Mary Angela had come back and demanded things she had no right asking of him. He wished he was still that oblivious.

He hated that he still cared about her after three years of abandonment and thousands of miles apart. As much as he feigned contempt in front of Monica and the others, she still meant a great deal to him. She was Michelle's mother after all. As much as he hated what she had done, he would love her for that, always. She had been his first real love. But there were so many other things to consider that he wasn't sure he could forgive. He hated that she was making him doubt the stability of his relationship with Monica. Monica was so sweet and amazing and would be a perfect stepmother to Michelle if given the chance. All their friends seemed to think they were on the road to marriage, and he had, too, but… he was suddenly doubting whether that was for the best. If there was a chance for Michelle to have both her mother and her father… wouldn't that be what she wanted? What was best for her?

He loathed himself for thinking it, but Mary Angela had looked amazing, more beautiful then she ever had when they were married. The few years they had spent apart had treated her very well. He wondered how she thought he had changed over the years, whether the changes were for better or for worse. He shoved the thought away, feeling guilty for even caring. He loved Monica and couldn't hurt her. He didn't care about Mary Angela any more.

She was in the past and it was going to stay that way.

xx

Chandler had taken the day off of work, knowing that he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything except for the situation with Mary Angela. Monica had been extremely understanding and had even offered to drop Michelle off at kindergarten on her way to work. The fact that she had been so good about his bad mood and lingering thoughts made him appreciate her all the more.

When the doorbell rang he wasn't sure why he bothered answering the door. He wasn't really in the mood to deal with any of his friends. He knew they all knew what had happened between him and Mary Angela and their curiousity was the last thing he needed.

To his dismay he was confronted with the person who was at the root of all his problems. "What are you doing here, Mary Angela?" he groaned, leaning heavily against the doorframe, holding the door close to his body, so she couldn't enter.

"I had to apologize, Chandler! I'm sorry I hurt you. And I'm sorry I scared you by saying what I did… but it was all true. Of all the things in my life that I regret, hurting you is the thing I regret the most. If you think there's the slightest chance we can make this work-"

"Don't. Just don't," he interrupted, coldly, "How did you even get my address?"

"I got it from Daddy," she told him shyly, "He advised me to come talk to you. He said you and Monica weren't very serious, and that he thought we just needed to talk things through."

"Why does that bastard hate me so much?" Chandler muttered under his breath, answering hostilely aloud, "Your father was wrong. I'm not going to work out anything with you. So, if you'll excuse me," he moved to close the door, but she stopped him.

"Chandler, please, I'm sorry!" she pleaded, "Just hear me out?"

"Why should I?" he questioned, glaring at his ex-wife, "It's not like you've given me a reason to do you any favours!"

"Because I love you!" she said, looking at him beseechingly.

"Well I don't love you anymore! I'm in love with Monica. We," he gestured between them, "are over and have been since the day you gave up on us. I'm in love with Monica. I can't hurt her. I can't."

"But what about us bumping into one another like we did?" she implored, "It was fate telling us this is our second chance!"

"Fate?" Chandler huffed sarcastically, "It was your brother's wedding! My bestfriend! What are the chances we'd see one another?" he rolled his eyes, pretending to be deep in thought, "You're right it must have been destined!" She looked downcast, but Chandler didn't care, "What are you expecting me to do? Jump up and down in excitement? This," he gestured between them, again, "isn't as easy as you seem to want it to be!"

"I know that!" Mary Angela exclaimed, "I never thought it would be easy! I wish it was," she sighed, "Just answer one question for me and I promise I won't bother you anymore," He nodded reluctantly, knowing he wouldn't like the question that was to follow.

After a pause, she stared boldly into his eyes and asked, "Do you still love me?" Chandler stared at her open-mouthed for a few moments, unable to answer, he eventually averted his eyes and shrugged. Mary Angela told him, compassionately, "I think we both know what that means. Don't give up on us. We have history! A daughter. Don't you want Michelle to have her family? We could raise her together, like we were meant to!"

"I don't know what you want from me," he told her.

"I just want you," she returned. "I know this is a lot to think about. But I also know you still love me. I can see it in your eyes. They haven't changed a bit. They're still the most beautiful blue in the world… and it kills me, because in them I can see how much you're hurting and I know it's my fault," she paused, her voice choked as tears threatened. "Just... consider us, okay? You don't have to decide right now. I'm living in the city. I've been trying to work up the courage to see you. Now that I have, I'm not giving up so easily," she promised. "Remember how we used to say we were soulmates? I've never believed that as strongly as I do now," she said, her voice full of confidence, "We just hit a detour, is all."

Chandler avoided her eyes, trying to hide his shaky breathing and the fact that she had stirred his feelings. Attempting to make his voice sound strong and sure, he commanded coldly, "I think you should go now, Mary Angela." She nodded, and pressed a card into his hand, as she reached to kiss his cheek. He stood rigid as she did. Only after she had disappeared down the stairwell and he could no longer hear her retreating footsteps did he close the door. He leaned against it heavily, sliding down to sit at the base of it, before glancing at the card in his hand.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, he flipped the card absently between his fingers, staring at it blankly for several minutes, before the tears that had welled had dried enough that the words were no longer blurry.

The first thing he noticed was her long, elegant script. They had always joked how un-Tribbiani-like her handwriting was. She really did have very pretty writing. It wasn't until he'd recognized it again that he realized how much he had missed it in the first place.

She had scrawled the name of their restaurant on the back along with the next night's date, and the time 8:30. He remembered all the times they had been there, vividly. When they came up to New York from LA, to visit relatives, they always made a point to take a moment to themselves and dine there, even after Michelle had been born. It was a tiny Italian eatery that Mary Angela had loved when she was younger. She raved about it and eventually dragged him there to see for himself. He'd fallen as in love with it as she had.

His eyes brimmed with tears again, distorting the words on the card.

xx

_Thanks for reading :)_

_I was hoping to have this series done by Christmas, but not sure it's going to be possible anymore. We still have 5 or so chapters to go. I returned to my job for winter break yesterday, and I have an exam coming up that I have to study for. So I'm going to have less time to be writing and updating._

_But review, anyway, and make my day, please :) They made the button bigger for a reason. So you'll click it :P_

_Oh, and thank you for helping me reach 100 reviews! Yay! :)  
_


	13. Chapter 13

**Listen to Your Heart – Chapter Thirteen**

xx

Chandler sighed and glanced around the coffeehouse as he sipped his coffee, hardly registering what was going around him. The hot liquid burned his tongue but he hardly noticed. Since Mary Angela's second appearance in less than twenty-four hours, his mind refused to focus on anything but her request that he meet her for dinner the next night.

His friends were chatting and his daughter was playing happily at his feet, unaware of his internal debate.

Cautiously, he fingered the card in his pocket, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He'd forced a smile on his face all afternoon, hiding his inner turmoil. If his friends knew anything was wrong with him, they didn't let on. If they did realize, he reasoned, they probably just thought he was still anxious over his ex-wife's appearance at Joey and Rachel's wedding reception, and figured he wasn't willing to discuss it. He was thankful that Monica was still at work, because he knew she would recognize that something had happened to worsen his mood, immediately.

He huffed another sigh, his thoughts unconsciously shifting to his dilemma. Part of him didn't want to go to dinner with Mary Angela. It was too casual and premeditated. Having her show up at his door, unplanned, was one thing. Agreeing to meet her was another thing entirely. He didn't want to risk his relationship with Monica by going on a date with his ex-wife. He knew his girlfriend trusted him and that she was secure in their relationship; after everything they had been through together, they knew one another as well as any two people probably could. In spite of her outward confidence and trust in him, Chandler knew there was a part of her that was still insecure about Mary Angela's place in his life and what that meant for their relationship. He didn't want to worsen her fears.

The more precarious part of him thought it might be better to meet his ex-wife in person, where they could talk out their issues. Maybe he'd finally be able to find some closure and put her memory behind him once and for all. He was in love with Monica. Old feelings wouldn't be dragged up, would they?

"Chandler!"

Chandler suddenly looked up, at the calling of his name, slightly disoriented.

"Dude," Joey complained, "You've been staring off into space since you got here! I called your name, like, five times! Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Chandler nodded with a forced half-smile. "I'm fine. I was just thinking." He glanced at the others, and thanked his lucky stars that they weren't paying attention to the conversation between him and Joey. He loved them all, but they were far too meddling for their own good. At least this sort of involved Joey in that he was related to the source of his problem.

"Dude," Joey groaned, displeased, "Don't even _bother_ lying to me. You're my brother! I can see you're upset! It's Angie, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Chandler agreed unenthusiastically, "I'm just so confused and disoriented and I don't know what to do! I hate this. I don't want to lose Monica or Michelle because I screwed this up!" He stroked his daughter's hair, watching as she enthusiastically scribbled in her colouring book, kneeling in front of the coffee table. She looked up at him and offered a bright smile.

"You're going to be fine, man," Joey told him confidently, watching the display of affection between father and daughter, "You have an amazing girlfriend, a beautiful daughter and friends who love you. You're going to get through this and we're all here to help."

Chandler smiled at him gratefully. "I know that, I just feel like this is something I have to deal with on my own, you know?"

Joey nodded, a little unsure. "Okay, but if you need anything…" he trailed off, purposely leaving the offer open to whatever his former brother-in-law might need from him.

Chandler clapped him on the back appreciatively. "I'll know who to come to," he promised.

Rachel leaned over from her seat next to her husband, making it clear she had been eavesdropping and whispered, "That goes for me too, Chandler! We're family now!"

Chandler groaned and complained good-naturedly, "Great, yes, I'm so glad more people are involved in this! I was hoping we could make this a public issue."

Rachel laughed sardonically. "Please," she scoffed, "You did that for yourself! You are the worst pretender ever! We all know you're upset, and we all know it's not just because Mary Angela showed up at my wedding reception!" Rachel's exclamation caught the attention of Ross, Julie and Phoebe who all looked up and nodded in agreement.

"She's right, dude," Ross agreed, "You're the worst faker ever. Ben did a better job of acting in his kindergarten play last week. And he was a flower." The others all giggled.

Chandler shot him a 'shut up' glare and flushed in embarrassment. He had honestly thought they were all oblivious to his personal problems. He should have known better. "You do?" he complained, "All of you?"

"Of course!" Phoebe chimed in, scoffing as if she thought she were stating the obvious.

"Even your daughter noticed!" Rachel pointed out. "If you hadn't been so out of it you would've heard her ask us why 'Daddy was fuzzy.' Uncle Joey thought you were growing fur." She giggled, poking fun at her husband, who crossed his arms petulantly, not enjoying the teasing. "Anyway," Rachel added, "we're all worried about you."

"It's nothing," Chandler said dismissively, trying to maintain a slightly indifferent tone. "Mary Angela just showed up at my door again today, that's all," he explained with a half-truth. Until he decided for himself whether or not he was going to meet his ex-wife for dinner, he had resolved not to tell anyone else his dilemma.

They all gasped. "She did?" Rachel squeaked, "What did she say?"

"Nothing," Chandler told them, huffily, avoiding looking at any of them.

"Oh come on!" Rachel snipped, "You can't tell us that and then not give us any details! It's inhumane!" She clasped her hands and looked at him pleadingly.

Chandler sighed knowing she wasn't going to relent and offered another half-truth. "She wants us to be together. She had some deluded image of us as a perfect family," he said quietly.

"Dude," Joey warned, a note of panic in his voice, "You can't go back to her! My sister doesn't deserve you! You'll get hurt again. You love Monica." The others all murmured in agreement.

"I know that," Chandler told them.

"Uncle Joey, Aunt Rachel?" Michelle butted into the conversation, looking up at the couch where her Aunt and Uncle were seated, before noticing her Daddy no longer seemed zoned out. "Daddy! Are you okay now? You were fuzzy before." Chandler nodded and Michelle studied his face for a moment, deciding whether or not he was telling the truth, before continuing, "I's done my picture. Wanna see?" All the adults on the couch nodded, so she held up her colouring book proudly for all her aunts, uncles and her daddy to see.

"Wow, sweetie," Phoebe complimented, "It's pretty." The others all nodded in agreement. Michelle smiled proudly, and flipped the page to begin colouring a new image.

"Dude," Ross continued the conversation angrily, once Michelle was safely re-engrossed in her colouring book, "You're not considering leaving my sister are you?!"

"Ross!" Julie complained, "Can't you see he's having trouble dealing with this without your interference? Don't complicate it. You know they love one another. They'll be fine!" Chandler smiled at her gratefully.

"I guess you're right," Ross agreed reluctantly, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek.

"Did you just admit someone other than yourself was right?" Rachel laughed. "So miracles _do_ happen everyday!" Ross looked at her sarcastically and banged his fists at her. Rachel just laughed harder.

Joey looked at his wife in confusion, "What's so funny? What was that weird hand thing Ross just did?"

"Oh," Rachel giggled, "It's his way of giving the finger without actually giving the finger. He made it up to throw off his mommy when we were teenagers!"

Joey laughed, managing through his laughter, "Seriously, dude?" Ross scoffed, but was spared further embarrassment when his sister burst into the coffeehouse, heading straight towards them.

"How was work, Mon?" Phoebe greeted, as her friend settled in between Chandler and Joey on the orange couch, stopping briefly to kiss the top of Michelle's head.

"It was okay," Monica sighed, "Hard to concentrate. I have a lot on my mind." She looked at Chandler briefly before averting her eyes. He offered a small smile in return.

"Chandler told us what happened with Mary Angela," Julie explained, gently.

"He did?" Monica glanced at her boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. After the debacle the previous night she was surprised he had opened up to them at all. She felt a little hurt that he was so willing to divulge what had happened to them, but she had spent hours trying to pry him into opening up to her. Chandler seemed to be reading her thoughts, and squeezed her hand tightly, kissing her cheek in a reassuring way.

"Yeah," Rachel nodded, "How are you feeling, honey? This must be tearing you up. I know how you were worr-"

"Rach!" Monica growled through gritted teeth, interrupting her friend, "I don't think this is the time." Changing the subject away from her feelings, Monica focused on Chandler, stroking his hair maternally, "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"Daddy was fuzzy," Michelle chimed in, answering for her father, looking up at Monica with the wide, concerned eyes of a child, "He wasn't talking to nobody a'cause he was sad." Monica smiled at the little girl and tapped her chin, kissing it, mouthing 'Thanks, sweetie.' Satisfied she has divulged the crucial information for Monica to help her Daddy, Michelle smiled and went back to her colouring.

"I'm fine, Mon," he assured her, squeezing the hand on his leg, trying to reassure her, in spite of his own uncertainties.

She continued to look at him with worried eyes, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he told her, forcing another smile.

xx

"Chandler, do you want some soup, sweetie?" Monica asked him later that night, as she riffled through the fridge.

They were alone in her apartment, Michelle already fast asleep. Since Rachel had moved into Joey's apartment the previous month, Monica found she disliked staying in her apartment alone. Most nights she'd stay at Chandler's apartment, or they'd both stay at hers, with Michelle in the bedroom they'd set up for her in Rachel's old room.

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? I could make some chicken noodle?" Monica told him persuasively. She paused fluffing the pillow he was leaning against, and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch so it was tucked around him.

"Mon," Chandler sighed, turning to face her, over the back of the couch and pulling her around it and into the living room, seating her next to him, "How many times do I have to tell you I'm fine? You're treating me like I'm sick! I just want some time to think. That's all. I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she apologized, "I'm just concerned about you."

"That's not all this is, is it, Mon?" he asked gently, turning her chin so she was forced to look at him.

Monica averted her eyes. "What do you mean?" she questioned, though she knew exactly what he was asking. "You just seem to be coming down with a cold. That's all." She shrugged innocently, "I don't see the problem."

"You said you wanted me to open up to you. Now I'm asking you to do the same. I know you're not mothering me because you think I'm sick. You're freaking out, and this is how you deal with pressure," he explained rationally.

"Fine," Monica admitted reluctantly, "I'm freaking out a little. But it's only because I love you. You're going though this whole unexpected thing! I'm supposed to be there for you!"

"You don't have to do that, baby," he promised. "We should be able to lean on one another. This relationship is reciprocal," he explained, kissing her cheek. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you."

"I know."

"So tell me?" he pleaded, gently.

"You're still hung up on her, Chandler," Monica explained shakily. "What if you do work things out? I'll be left in the dust. I'm so in love with you. What am I going to do if that happens? The thought terrifies me. I need you."

Chandler hugged her and she buried her face in his chest, "Why didn't you tell me this, when we were talking about this, this morning?"

"Because you were so upset about everything," Monica explained in a small voice, "You needed me to be the strong, grounded one. Not to compound the issue by adding my own stupid insecurities to the mix."

"Being worried is never stupid, honey," Chandler countered, kissing her hair, "If I was in your position, I'd feel the same way. You were incredibly brave to be able to do that for me."

"Really?" Monica questioned, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

Chandler nodded. "Yes. I'm not going anywhere, though. Mary Angela is my past. You are my future. That's all there is to it."

Monica stared into his eyes imploringly, "How can you know that for sure?"

"Because I do," Chandler said confidently, squeezing her tighter, "Anything I feel for her now is just residual feelings from years ago. I'm in love with you. Nothing I feel for her can compare to the way I feel about you, now." Monica didn't respond. She closed her eyes and reveled in the comfort she always felt in his arms.

xx

Chandler looked around the restaurant nervously. After spending hours mulling over whether or not to show, and alarming all his friends, his girlfriend and his daughter in the process, he had decided he had to see her.

He felt incredibly guilty for showing up at all, but he had reasoned with himself that he was doing this in an attempt to find some closure. Perhaps if he sat down and had dinner with Mary Angela and they were able to talk through their issues, he would realize he wasn't missing her anymore and he would finally be able to put her solidly in his past. That seemingly logical reasoning did little to quell his guilt or the feeling he was betraying Monica in some way. He hadn't told her what he was doing or where he was.

He routinely glanced around the restaurant, surreptitiously keeping an eye out for anyone he knew that might tell her before he could. He knew he was being paranoid, since the chance of running into anyone he knew in the tiny Italian restaurant were slim, but the last thing he wanted was for her to find out what he'd done without the benefit of his explanation. He really didn't want to have to decode the trail, and run around the city trying to stop Monica from finding out something that would unnecessarily hurt her. Ross had told him the horror story of his breakup with Rachel and how that little ploy was ineffective.

He glanced at his watch, eager for the night to be over so he could go home and curl up in bed with Monica, and forget he ever had an ex-wife. The minutes seemed to be dragging on at an impossibly slow pace. He was still five minutes early. Months of being with Monica had brought out his more punctual side. He smiled inwardly as he thought of himself before he had fallen in love with her. He was hard-pressed getting his daughter to preschool on time. Now he was showing up for appointments _early_.

He glanced up again, nervously looking for anyone he knew and caught sight of Mary Angela walking towards him. His breath caught in his throat as his nerves rushed at him at full force. If he was honest with himself, it wasn't just his nervousness that caused his reaction. She looked really good. Her sultry black dress fit her perfectly. He loathed himself for thinking it at all, but she almost looked sexy. He forced away the thought, reminding himself he had come for closure, not to destroy his relationship with Monica.

She smiled at him shyly as she slid into the seat across from him. From the glint in her eye he knew she had noticed him checking her out and flushed in embarrassment at being caught. He didn't want to give her any encouragement. Closure. This was about closure.

After a few moments of terse silence, Mary Angela spoke first. "I didn't think you were going to show up. I was so nervous getting ready, wondering if you would, if I was just setting myself up. I'd convinced myself you weren't going to. I'm so glad you have. You look good. You've always cleaned up well," she said winningly.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Chandler returned shortly, "I'm here so we can settle this thing" he waved abstractly, "between us and get some closure. Maybe then we can both move on without these residual feelings. This idea you have of us being a family… it's been three years, Mary Angela! You had to know I could've moved on! I could have been remarried! Or had another kid!"

"I know," she replied. "I just wanted it to be that way so badly I had fooled myself into thinking it would be. Maybe, it's not as ideal as it could be, but maybe we still can be a family," she suggested hopefully, "You showed up. You haven't remarried or had another child! I know you still have feelings for me. We have a child together. We make sense. What does she have that I don't?"

"Maybe we could in some alternate universe, but we don't in this one," Chandler told her resolutely, "I love Monica now. I trust her. I can't trust you. That's the difference, and it means the chance of us is gone."

"Okay," she agreed, her tone apologetic, "I don't want to fight. I want tonight to be about us, together. I want to prove to you how much you mean to me." She clasped his hand, from its resting on the tablecloth, in hers, gently caressing his skin on the back of his hand with her thumb. Chandler froze, unsure if the contact was crossing a line. He didn't have too much time to deliberate, as Mary Angela spoke up again, obviously trying to distract him, "Tell me about Michelle?"

He yanked away his hand in horror, suddenly afraid she would attempt to fight for custody. "Michelle!" Chandler asked panicked, "Wh-Why do you want to know?"

"She's my daughter, isn't she?" Mary Angela asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I suppose," Chandler drawled, forcing himself to answer the question, less spitefully than he felt. "She's good. She's in kindergarten now. Her teacher loves her. She's creative. She loves arts and crafts time and is always bringing home pictures of something or other. She's smart and beautiful and amazing. But you wouldn't know any of that, would you?" he snipped, unable to resist one final stab.

"I guess not," she sighed, her eyes downcast, "I'm never going to make this up to you, am I? No matter what I do you keep taking these little jabs! I am _not_ a bad person! I make a mistake! I want to make it up to you. How can I prove it to you?"

He stared at her for a moment, feeling slightly guilty for his meanness. "Sorry," he apologized half-heartedly, "Just… do you realize how hard this is for me? You've been gone years! Years! I never thought I'd have to deal with this. I wasn't prepared."

She reached toward his hand again tentatively, "I know."

Chandler was spared from coming up with a reply when the waiter sauntered up to their table. "Good evening, sir, miss. Do you know what you'd like to order, tonight?" he queried.

Even though neither of them had glanced at a menu, they both knew what they wanted. Chandler's eyes met Mary Angela's briefly and he surprised himself by answering for both of them. "I'll have the pollo parmigana and she'll have rigatoni monsanto, please. Bruschetta to start, for both of us?"

The waiter smiled pleasantly, jotting down the order on his notepad, "Will that be all?"

"Actually, we'd like a bottle of chardonnay, as well," Mary Angela added, smiling at Chandler coyly. Chandler sighed, resolving to keep his drinking to a minimum. He had a history of doing stupid things while drunk, like sleeping with Mary Angela in the first place. He wasn't going to ruin his relationship with Monica because he was a drunken idiot.

"Of course," the waiter nodded with a wink, making another note on his pad, "Will that be all, then?" They both nodded politely, thanking him.

Once the waiter had retreated out of sight, Mary Angela leaned over to Chandler, grinning. "I can't believe you remembered."

Chandler shrugged indifferently, blowing off her appreciation, his tone suggesting it was no big deal, "You used to love this place, Angie. We came here any chance we got. Of course I remembered."

"You just called me Angie," she told him quietly, her eyes suspiciously misty, "You haven't done that since before I left."

"Don't read too much into this," Chandler sighed, not wanting to give her a reason to hope for a reunion between them. Closure, he wanted closure, he reminded himself.

Mary Angela grinned, fiddling with her silverware absently. Ignoring his warning, she continued, "God, it feels good to hear you call me that again." She looked up, smiling into his eyes. "You're not mad anymore," she declared, "You're just acting distant because you're unsure how else to deal with your feelings."

"Mary Angela," Chandler stated, his voice hard, "Don't do this."

She looked into his face apologetically, not wanting to make him feel pressured enough to withdraw from her completely. She was finally making progress. Seeing Chandler's stony exterior hadn't budged, she changed the subject, hurriedly. "So, you were telling me about Michelle, earlier? Before the waiter came?"

Chandler smiled faintly at the thought of his daughter's antics and nodded slightly, "Michelle is good." Mary Angela sighed in relief.

"Come on!" she pressed, curiously, pleased to have found a safe topic "I know you have more to tell me than just that. Does she still love cookies? Does she still carry Shell around everywhere?"

Chandler nodded, "Yeah, She still loves cookies. She's graduated from animal cookies to chocolate chip, though. She and Monica love baking cookies. Michelle says she wants to be a chef when she grows up, now." Mary Angela stiffened at the mention of his girlfriend's name, not wanting to be reminded of her existence. Chandler failed to notice and continued, "She doesn't carry him everywhere, but she still sleeps with Shell every night." After a moment of silence, he added, "Do you remember when you gave him to her?"

Mary Angela nodded "Yeah, a couple weeks before I, um…" she trailed off, embarrassed for being unable to say the words, "Does she, uh, know he was from me?"

Chandler shrugged, "No. How would I tell her? She's four years old, Mary Angela. Telling her that her favourite stuffed toy was from her Mommy, who isn't around, would confuse her. She'd want to see you."

"And you wouldn't let that happen?" she asked quietly, "I want to get to know her, Chandler. She's my daughter, too. You can be there, too, if you like. We can have time together, as a family?" she suggested hopefully.

Chandler faltered. "I, I don't know if that's a good idea, us being together all the time. Or at all. It would hurt Monica, and we aren't a family, anymore. I'm in love with someone else, Angie," he said softly. He wanted to put her off, but he didn't want to hurt her. He wasn't willing to be the person who needed revenge to make himself feel better. He was going to be the bigger person. All they needed was closure. Fighting and being petty wasn't going to push them any closer towards that goal.

"I just want to see my daughter, Chandler," Mary Angela countered, defensively.

"Even after all these years apart, I still know you, Angie," Chandler sighed, slightly irritated, "Don't lie to me. You've still got this fantasy idea of us being a family in your head. I won't stand for you to use Michelle like that. This involves us, not her."

She exhaled heavily, admitting, "You're right. But would it really be so bad for us to be a family again? If we have the slightest chance to work this out, we should try. You're an amazing father. I can learn to be a good mother, with your help."

Chandler stared at her plaintively, his voice flat, "Flattery will get you nowhere."

Mary Angela smiled and rolled her eyes, "I'm done looking stupid. I'm telling it how I see it. You're an amazing father. Our little girl is lucky to have you." Chandler shrugged bashfully, fighting down his pride at the compliment. "I'm serious, Chandler," she insisted, "I can see that Michelle is happy and that's all I ever wanted for her. She's beautiful, intelligent and well adjusted. And it's all your doing. Even before we had Michelle, I knew you were going to be a wonderful father."

Chandler shrugged noncommittally, offering in the way of an explanation, "I love her more than anything. She's my life."

"I know," Mary Angela nodded, scooting her chair towards his, so they were both sitting on the same side of the round table they had been seated at. "You're amazing. You haven't changed much in three years." She studied his face, carefully, "If anything," she smiled at him, "you look better. Your hair is a little longer than I remember." She reached up to finger it gently, "I like it." Chandler knew the contact was treading into dangerous territory, but couldn't force himself to put a stop to it. It was familiar and comforting, but exciting at the same time. They stared into one another's eyes for a moment.

"I've missed you," Mary Angela told him, sincerely, leaning to kiss his cheek, her hand still touching his hair. Chandler stiffened slightly, caught off guard when she pressed her lips gently against his.

xx

_It's been a busy week with Christmas stuff. We put up our tree and lights and I did a little Christmas shopping. I love this time of year! I was considering doing a little Mondler Christmas oneshot to celebrate the season. If there's any interest in that, let me know and I'll see what I can come up with as a little Christmas present for all of you, my wonderful readers :)_

_I'm still planning to put out a couple more chapters of this one, as well, before Christmas, if I can finagle it, but we'll see how it goes :) My exam has been cancelled, due to the strike, so now that it's just work I have to contend with, I have a little more time on my hands, Christmas preparations aside._

_Anyway, thanks for reading and please review and give me some inspiration :) _


	14. Chapter 14

**Listen To Your Heart – Chapter Fourteen**

xx

Chandler allowed the kiss to happen for a moment, transfixed, before thoughts of Monica being hurt swarmed into his mind. The thought was the equivalent of a cold bucket of water being splashed on him, and he shoved Mary Angela away.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, "I have a girlfriend I love! I specifically told you this wasn't going to happen!"

She looked at him downcast, flushing, "I thought we were having a little moment, and maybe you wouldn't mind."

"What the hell, Angie!" Chandler fumed, "Just because I wasn't yelling at you for the first time in a week is not an invitation to make out! I'm not going to cheat on my girlfriend! I've told you that multiple times! We're over. Done."

"But–" Mary Angela started to protest, but was cut off.

"Nothing! No buts!" Chandler stated furiously. He had stood up and was pacing in front of their table, attracting a few odd stares. Mary Angela flushed in humiliation, not only from the unwanted attention, but from the embarrassment of being shot down, again. "I don't even know what to say to you now! I can't deal with this now," he claimed, turning away from her, his face in his hands. Without warning he suddenly started marching purposefully towards the door.

Mary Angela was quick to follow. "Where are you going?" she asked hesitantly, taking quick strides to keep up with him.

He turned to face her once they were both out in the cool night air. "Home! Away from you! This was a horrible, terrible, awful, crappy, shitty, dumb idea! I knew it was, but I stupidly came anyway, I don't even know what possessed me to think I was doing something intelligent!" he rambled, "I was hoping that maybe we could put this behind us! But that was never an option was it? You're dead-set on making me miserable."

"What, no!" Mary Angela claimed, pulling on his arm to get him to look at her as he turned away, "Please believe me, I never want to see you hurt! It's just that I want to be happy, too! And I know we could be happy together – both of us – if you'd just-"

"What about Monica?" Chandler asked quietly. Mary Angela was silent, and looked at the ground, biting her lip. "That's what I thought. She deserves happiness, too, Angie. Either way there's two happy people and one miserable person. I'll be damned if it's Monica. I'm _not_ going to be the reason she cries. She's never given me anything but reasons to love her. You…" he trailed off harshly, "Well, let's not go there." He turned to walk down the street, heading towards his apartment. He took a few steps before turning to look back at Mary Angela and offer quietly, "Have a nice life, Angie. Goodbye."

Mary Angela made no attempt to follow him, and merely watched as he strode steadily down the street and out of view. Only when he was three blocks away did she allow herself to collapse in a heap against the bricked exterior of the restaurant, a solitary tear trailing down her face.

xx

Chandler walked into his apartment cautiously, a mixture of nervousness and guilty anticipation sloshing in the pit of his stomach. Even though he knew he wasn't completely at fault for what had happened, that did little to quell his overwhelming guilt for letting the incident happen at all. He only hoped Monica would understand.

He twisted the knob slowly, entering with his head hung low. The second Monica caught sight of his face, she leapt up from her spot on the rug, where she was playing Legos with Michelle, and rushed towards him, enveloping him in her arms before he had even taken two steps into the apartment. "Where the hell were you?! I've been waiting for you for hours! Did something happen? Are you okay?" she wondered worriedly, searching his face for answers.

Chandler met her eyes, guiltily, and shrugged, "I'm fine. I think we need to talk, though."

"We need to talk?" Monica repeated helplessly, her blood running cold at the words that had become synonymous with 'break-up,' "Is this why you stood me up?" she questioned quietly. A cold stab of pain seared through his chest as their dinner plans came shooting back into his mind. They were supposed to go out that night to celebrate her raise. How could he have forgotten? How the hell was he supposed to tell Monica that he had stood her up for his ex-wife? As much as he knew she had tried to be strong for him while he dealt with his past, Chandler knew that Monica was just as plagued by insecurities as he was. And this… it would seem like she had been brushed aside for Mary Angela. He prayed Monica would forgive him; if he screwed their relationship up, because he was an idiot, he'd never forgive himself. That thought did little to ease the nagging sense of impending doom he was feeling.

Chandler's silence only seemed to agitate her panic. "Tell me what's going on! Chandler! Please, sweetie, tell me what's wrong."

"Maybe we should put Michelle to bed, first," he suggested softly. Reading in his eyes that he wasn't going to provide any answers until Michelle was safely tucked into bed, Monica nodded silently, watching as he headed wordlessly towards his daughter, scooping her up into his arms and putting on a false cheerful voice to sway her into going to bed. To their surprise, almost as if she could sense the tension between the adults, she agreed without much fuss, and within ten minutes was changed into her PJs and tucked into bed, soundly asleep.

Once Michelle was settled, Monica and Chandler sat silently on the couch, side by side, both too afraid to broach the topic they knew they needed to, each terrified the other would call off their relationship. It was Chandler who eventually summoned the courage to speak first, his voice hesitant and raspy. "I saw Mary Angela today," he blurted out, his heart pounding rapidly in anticipation of his girlfriend's response.

As expected, the wounded look that spread across Monica's face was a form of pain in and of itself. The hurt in her voice was unmistakable. "You- You stood me up to go see your ex-wife!" Chandler nodded wordlessly, swallowing the heavy painful lump that had formed in his throat. "Do you care about me at all?!" she demanded, "For the past few days I've tried to be a good girlfriend and let you express your feelings and be there for you when you needed me to be! I've listened to you mourn over her for almost a year now! Are you ever going to be over her completely? I'm sick of this yo-yo game! I love you, but I'm not so sure you love me! I just don't know what to do anymore!"

"No!" Chandler insisted, his voice laced with panic, "I love you so much," he said, his voice small, "I need you. That's exactly what I told Angie! I told her it was over, for now and for ever! I swear I didn't mean to stand you up, tonight. I wasn't thinking straight and I – I just forgot."

Monica's eyes softened marginally, her voice sounding choked, "I waited two hours for you to show! Once you didn't, I told Phoebe to go home, and that I would watch Michelle! I was worried sick about you, yet you forgot I was even here! Watching your daughter. Her daughter!"

"I'm so sorry, Monica, please, you have to und–"

"I don't want to be second best anymore, Chandler!" Monica interjected, "I thought you had gotten over her and that we were head over heels in love! Then she reappears, out of nowhere, and this," she gestured between them, "started to feel so one-sided! I don't want to be the only one putting any effort in! I tried to be there for you! Yet, you still go off and see her behind my back and stand me up, all in one go? You know you could have told me! I would have understood! It's like you don't trust me, or you just don't care! I don't know which is worse! Is this your way of letting me down gently?" she questioned her voice choked as tears streamed down her cheeks, "Are you trying to get me to break up with you so you don't have to?" she questioned, wringing her hands miserably, "Because if that's what you want, I can't. I just, can't."

"No!" Chandler insisted, "I would never want that. I love you! I don't want to break up with you, not for Mary Angela, not for anyone! I want you, and who wouldn't? You're gorgeous and funny and amazing and… I'm just so in love with you."

Monica studied his face carefully. "Please tell me this is what you really want," she pleaded, "I love you so much. I couldn't stand it if you were saying all this just to appease me. I need you to feel it, like I do for you."

"Of course I mean it, baby," Chandler agreed, his own eyes surprisingly shiny with emotion, "You have no idea how sorry I am. You are amazing and I know I don't deserve you. But, I'm selfish. I love you. I love you so damn much that I know I will strive to be a better man if it means I get to keep you. I need you, and I can't lose you because I'm a screw up."

"As long as you don't want to lose me, you won't," she told him, a relieved half-smile inching across her face, shining through her tears, "I love you, too." Chandler encased her in a tight embrace, his relief evident in his touch.

"I know you do. I'm so unbelievably sorry. I hate that I caused you so much pain," he apologized. "When I went to see her, all that I was thinking of, was getting closure! I thought, maybe, if I sat down to dinner with her and told her civilly that there was no hope for us, that she would leave us alone! I would never hurt you, purposefully! I could never cheat on you or cause you any kind of pain if it's in my control not to." He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "But she's got this idea of me, her and Michelle as a family that she stubbornly refuses to let go of!" Monica could hear the choked frustration in his voice, and listened quietly. "I told her repeatedly that I was in love with you and that there was no chance for 'us.' I don't know what else I can do to put her off!" he rambled in his frustration, "At the end of the night, I thought maybe I was finally getting through to her! We were talking and she seemed to understand and then she–" He stopped abruptly.

"She what?" Monica prodded, gently.

After an uncomfortable pause Chandler whispered hesitantly, "She kissed me." The words seemed to hang heavily in the air for several moments, making it seem suffocating.

Monica's response was not what he was expecting. "She did what!" she fumed, "After you told her that it wasn't going to happen?! Where does she get off?!"

Chandler smiled in spite of himself. He'd never admit it out loud, but he liked it when Monica got feisty and protective. It was a welcome confidence boost and eased his insecurities that such an incredible woman could genuinely care about him. He explained hurriedly, "I pushed her away and said I'd never cheat on you, and left her there. She tried to stop me at first, then I said some less than complementary things to her and stormed out. I came straight here."

Monica nodded emphatically, her voice hard, "Good! I cannot believe that woman would try that! If I ever see her again, you can bet your ass she'll live to regret it!"

Chandler squeezed her shoulder with the arm still curled around her, said conspiratorially, "I bet you could kick her ass."

Monica smirked smugly, pressing herself further into his embrace, pleased with the vote of confidence. "Damn right."

They both sat snuggling on the couch in comfortable silence for several long moments, letting all that had happened in the last ten minutes sink in. "You know I love you, right?" Chandler asked eventually, "Some of the things you said today… If I've ever made you feel like second best, I never meant to. Since I've fallen in love with you, you've always come first with me. Always. Together you and Michelle are my life."

Monica nodded, smiling shyly, fingering the hem of his shirt. "I know that realistically, but I have insecurities, too, sometimes, you know? I hate fighting with you," She toyed with his tie coyly, "But fighting always leads to making up. Wanna do that thing we do to make up?" she hinted seductively, "Michelle's asleep."

"God, yes," he groaned, leaning over to scoop her up into his arms, kissing her briefly as he did so, "I very much want to do that thing. I need to feel close to you." Monica giggled as he lifted her.

"I love making up with you," she informed him, wrapping her arms solidly around his neck.

He smiled in agreement and carried her into his room, "Well, I love everything about you," he smirked, but added seriously, "Even the obsessive cleaning." She giggled, too relieved they were 'okay' to even be the least bit upset at the comment.

He laid her on his bed, gently, crawling on top of her, supporting his weight on an elbow, before leaning to brush a few strands of her hair out of her face. "Never feel hesitant to tell me anything about how you're feeling, okay?" he told her, "I know you feel like you need to be strong and in control all the time – it's who you are – but if you ever need a break from that, I'm here for you, I can listen, too. I can be your rock. I owe you one. But just for the record you never have to feel threatened by Mary Angela. You've come first with me for a long time now."

Monica smiled gratefully. "I know. I don't want to think about how stupid we were, right now, though," she told him, "We're supposed to be making up."

"I know," he grinned, "And we do an awful good job of it, if I do say so, myself. I just thought you should know." Monica stroked his hair lovingly, pulling his face down to hers, letting herself melt into the kiss. After the heart-stopping fear that he was on the verge of breaking up with her, the familiar feel of his lips pressed firmly against hers was insanely comforting, and reassured her once and for all that they really were going to be okay.

She sighed into the kiss, allowing Chandler to take the lead, content to let him guide her. After the stress of the day it was a relief to relinquish control, even in that small way.

Without warning, Chandler pulled away from unbuttoning her shirt, mid-way down the row of buttons, and stared into her eyes lovingly. "Move in with me?" he blurted out.

Monica looked at him, shocked, her mouth opening and closing several times before she could form coherent words, "Are you serious?" she questioned, fully prepared for him to announce it was a joke. His nervous eyes quickly erased that thought.

"Yeah," he explained earnestly, "I mean, if this ordeal today taught me anything, it was how much I need you around. Why shouldn't we take this step? You practically live here, anyway. Were ready. And Rach and Joey live across the hall, if you lived here, they'd be closer. And my apartment's bigger," he told her persuasively.

Monica nearly laughed at his attempt to sway her. Chandler stared at her nervously, wondering if he'd made a mistake by asking her in the first place based on her reaction. Getting laughed at by your girlfriend in bed sure was a mood killer. "Are you trying to convince me or you?"

Chandler smiled at her anxiously, twirling several strands of her long hair nervously; she loved it when he played with her hair. She found his nervousness over asking the question endearing. "You, of course. I already want this. Do you?"

"You know I do," she told him with a tender smile, "And it's not because Joey and Rach are across the hall. Or because your apartment is bigger."

"Yeah?" he said bashfully, knowing that his tone would cue her to expand. A little ego boosting never killed anyone.

"Yeah. You're all the reason I need. You and me and Michelle."

"You know," Chandler told her, "When Angie kept dropping hints about me, her and Michelle, and how we could be this perfect family, I just couldn't picture it, not anymore. I can with you. You've been our family for awhile now."

Monica didn't answer verbally, but grinned and pulled him back down to her by his collar, allowing him to feel in her kiss how much that statement meant to her.

Monica, a million; Mary Angela, zero.

She fought the urge to jump off the bed and break into Chandler's happy dance. With his lips working their way pleasurably down her neck towards her chest, nudging her shirt out of the way, the thought was quickly discarded. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

Who said soulmates didn't exist?

xx

_Yep, it's back :)_

_Since this series seems to be dwindling in popularity a little, and perhaps I'm flagging on it, too, I've decided to offer you guys a choice. My outline has a couple more chapters (three to be exact) filled with fluff and a wee bit of drama, but I think I could also safely end the series here, with the exception of adding an epilogue. Let me know which you'd prefer. Since I have no strong feelings either way, so I'm gonna say majority rules on this one._

_If this series does end here, I have more friends projects in the works, which will soon be making their way on here :) I'm really excited for them, and I hope you guys'll like 'em too :)_

_Also a quick thanks to those of you who read and reviewed Entertaining Angels my quick detour of a Christmas story :)_


	15. Chapter 15

**Listen To Your Heart - Chapter Fifteen**

xx

"Hey," Monica greeted Chandler the next morning, when he stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, his hair ruffled, a yawn rippling across his face, "How ya feeling?"

He grinned at her, pausing to stretch languidly. "I woke up all alone in a cold, cold bed," he fake pouted.

Monica smiled back, "Sorry. Sacrifices had to be made. If you wanted breakfast, that is."

"I would've rather had you stay and curl up with me," he teased, "Eating could wait. I need someone to hold when I sleep. That's top priority."

Monica laughed, asking pointedly, "This after you rolled an ex-girlfriend out of bed to avoid cuddling?" At Chandler's frown she added, "That's right, Joey's told me stories."

Chandler's frown deepened. "That was a long time ago. Besides, you're different than Janice."

Monica smirked at him, "Anyway, maybe _you_ could wait for breakfast, but your daughter wouldn't. She woke me up half an hour ago demanding food." They both glanced at Michelle who was kneeling on one of the padded chairs at the kitchen table, armpit deep in oven mitts, sloppily stirring a bowl of pancake batter.

Chandler looked at her questioningly, "She woke you up first?"

Monica patted his back consolingly, "She knows I can cook, honey." At his slightly offended expression she announced cheerfully, "We made your favourite, though! Pancakes!"

"We? Looks like Michelle's doing all the work to me!" he teased, taking a seat next to his daughter at the table.

"Daddy! Look! I'm making pancakes!" Michelle told him excitedly, "Monica helped me put the stuffs in. She says we are gonta put blueberries in them to make them more yummy." She rubbed her tummy with the oversized oven mitt and Chandler couldn't help but laugh.

"That sounds really good, sweetie," he agreed.

Michelle turned toward Monica, "I's finished mixing. Can we put the blueberries in now?"

"Sure, sweetie. Just let me wash them, okay?" Monica said, carrying the container to the sink, and rinsing them before dumping them in the large mixing bowl in front of Michelle. Chandler watched them interact, as Monica repeated instructions from her homemade recipe to Michelle, letting her know what she was supposed to do. The smiles on both of their faces were contagious.

"What are you grinning stupidly at?" Monica asked him, with a raised eyebrow, noticing he was staring off into space, a smile on his face. Michelle was too immersed in stirring to care.

He was in such a good mood he didn't even take notice of the joking 'stupid' jab, and replied seriously, "The two most beautiful girls in the world, of course. I'm so lucky."

"Yeah?" Monica wondered, shyly, a little taken aback by his sincere answer to her teasing question.

He nodded. "Yeah. I love you both so much. What more do I need?" he questioned rhetorically, "I can't wait until you're living here with me and Michelle."

"Me either," she admitted. "Have you ever had that feeling where you just know you belong somewhere?" she asked, "I get that feeling, here, with you guys. Call me crazy, but I just know this is forever," she said dreamily, then realizing what she said, quickly amended, "Please don't freak out."

Chandler shrugged, "That's just it. Forever doesn't scare me anymore. Okay, it used to, not even that long ago, because of everything with Angie and how wrong it went, and the fact you can never know if something is ever really permanent. But I'm starting to realize I'm willing to take a chance, again. It's time I put all that behind me. I'm ready. If I can do it with anyone, I can do it with you."

Monica grinned at him broadly. "I know," she agreed reassuringly, kissing the side of his head, "I can't wait either...."

Chandler squeezed her hand, pulling her down so she was sitting on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and informed her matter-of-factly, "You're gonna be the best roommate I ever had."

Monica laughed, and joked, "Even better than Joey?"

Chandler grinned, "You do lots of things Joey didn't. You cook and clean and cuddle. And I get to sleep with you." Monica laughed happily in response.

"Can we put the pancakes on the cooky thing now?" Michelle wondered, slapping the mixed batter with the spatula impatiently, to get their attention, "I's hungry."

"Of course we can, sweetie," Monica told her, disentangling herself from Chandler's arms, striding towards his daughter, lifting her on to her hip with one arm and carrying the bowl of batter in the other. Michelle watched in fascination as Monica stirred the batter to assure she had mixed it thoroughly, before proceeding to pour it into the frying pan. Michelle watched the sizzling batter with wide eyes at it cooked before her eyes.

Michelle stared into the frying pan. "Are they almost done?" she wondered, peering at them, before turning to Monica inquisitively.

Monica laughed, "We just put them on, Mishi! They're gonna take a minute to cook." Curiously, Michelle reached her hand towards the frying pan. Monica instantly reacted, moving to snatch the little girl's hand away, but was too late.

"Don't touch that, Michelle, it's ho – shit!" she cursed loudly, as Michelle's shriek filled the apartment, pain searing from her burned skin.

The pancakes immediately abandoned, Monica raced Michelle towards the sink, dunking her hand under a stream of cold water, whispering soothing words against her hair, trying to ease her crying.

Panicked, Chandler rose from his spot at the table, his newspaper discarded, and rushed up behind them, asking worriedly, "What happened? Is she okay?"

"She burned her hand," Monica informed, "She barely touched the skillet, so it shouldn't be too bad, but it's going to be painful. I hope it doesn't blister," she stated worriedly, examining Michelle's burned finger, careful to keep it in the stream of cool running water.

Chandler's worry seemed to ease a little, knowing nothing was seriously wrong, and muttered comforting words to his daughter, stroking her hair from her face.

"Daddy! Monica!" Michelle sobbed, "My finger hurts!"

"Shh, I know, sweetie," Monica soothed, kissing her hair, "It hurts now, but it's going to be okay. You can put a Barbie band-aid on it, huh? How does that sound?"

Michelle sniffed, her sobs easing as the cold water relieved the burning sensation in her finger, "Okay. Can I put Skipper?" Monica nodded, relieved she no longer seemed to be in so much pain.

"I'll go get the band-aids, gauze and the burn ointment," Chandler offered, quickly retreating to the bathroom to grab the needed supplies.

By the time he had returned, Monica had removed Michelle's hand from the water, and sat her at the kitchen table, talking to her to keep her distracted from the pain in her hand. Gently, maternally, Monica dressed the burn, careful to avoid causing Michelle any more pain than necessary. After Monica and Chandler had both 'kissed the burn better,' Michelle seemed content that she would be okay, and sat in her father's lap, resting sleepily against his chest.

"You play the part of Mommy really well, you know that?" Chandler asked his girlfriend quickly, careful not to disturb his slumbering daughter. The early morning chaos and her injury had tired her out already.

Monica seemed frustrated with herself, "Hardly! Any good mother wouldn't let their child near a hot element in the first place! You should be upset with me, not praising me! I injured your daughter because I was stupid enough to hold her within reach of a hot element!"

Chandler shrugged, "She's a little kid, Mon, she's going to get hurt. Now she knows not too touch a hot stovetop. You were just trying to help her 'cook' and she knows that. She loves that you include her. She doesn't blame you, and I don't either. The way you reacted when she did get hurt, is what proves you're going to be a good mommy. Trust me."

"I do," Monica said reluctantly, her frown easing slightly, as she added, complimentary, "I suppose a good daddy should know a good mommy when he sees one."

"Hi!" "Good Morning!" two voices exclaimed, as Rachel and Joey sauntered through the front door. "What? Who died?" Rachel wondered, seeing the sobered looks on their faces.

"No one, Michelle just had a little accident, is all," Chandler informed them, glancing down at his daughter, "She burned her hand. She's okay now." The couple nodded, glancing at Michelle as if to check that she actually _was_ okay.

Joey immediately zeroed in on the food and peered at the stove, "What're we having?" he wondered.

"Shit! The pancakes!" Monica shot up from her chair and towards the stove, met with the sight of blackened pancakes. Upset, she flipped them into the trash, and complained, "Nothing is going right today."

"Aww, man," Joey groaned, "You're throwing food out? I'm hungry.

"You sound like the four-year-old," Chandler smirked, "There's more batter. Baby," he addressed Monica, sympathetically, "why don't you take Mishi, and I'll cook the rest of the pancakes. Your nerves are already a little frazzled."

Monica smiled at him gratefully, allowing him to shift his sleeping daughter into her arms, and plopped down in one of the kitchen chairs.

"I told you we should've made breakfast before we came over," Joey told Rachel with a pout.

Rachel smirked at her new husband, amused, "You know me, babe. Do you really want to eat my cooking? You've tasted my coffee."

Joey grimaced. "On second thought…" Rachel nodded approvingly.

Rachel noticed the unconscious ghost of a smile her bestfriend was wearing, underneath the expression that showed the early morning stress of burned pancakes and an injured child, "It's seven in the morning, Mon, and you've just experienced two minor catastrophes one after another. What are you so smiley about? Seven in the morning is for waking up, snatching a bite to eat and grumbling all the way to work."

Joey grinned sneakily at his wife, quipping, "I bet she got lucky last night." He nudged Chandler, who rolled his eyes and flipped one of the pancakes he was cooking.

Monica flushed, and just barely refrained from snapping defensively, "So I'm happy this morning in spite of calamity. No big deal. Is it a crime to be happy? Haven't you heard of the silver lining?"

"No, it's not a crime,," Rachel admitted, "But something is definitely up, there's no possible silver lining in this. Are you going to spill, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?"

Monica looked at Chandler questioningly, wondering if it was okay, he gestured that she should be the one to tell them. A happy smile broke out across her face, the stress of the morning forgotten as she admitted glowingly, "We've decided to live together."

"Oh you guys!" Rachel burst out, "I'm so happy for you! We're all going to live across the hall from one another! This is so awesome."

Joey nodded in agreement, clapping Chandler on the back in the typical male congratulations. "When did you guys decide? What are you going to do with the apartment?"

"Last night," Monica informed, "We were talking and just instinctively knew. It felt right. I was going to offer up my apartment to Ross and Julie, if they want it. I know they've been considering a big move recently, too. Maybe this is the push they need."

Joey smirked, "We're all such grown-ups, now. Can you imagine? Me married! And to Rachel! Or Chandler living with another woman, after all those commitment crap issues with Angie? It's surreal."

"Gee, thanks," Chandler complained from the skillet, "I appreciate your faith. We are still related, you know. You're supposed to support family!"

"I know," Joey grinned winningly, "Just saying I'm happy for you, pal."

xx

"Michelle!" Chandler told his daughter impatiently, as she contemplated over whether to wear her Mary Janes or her tennis shoes, "Please just pick a pair, or you're going to be late for kindergarten!"

"But what if they don't match my clothes, Daddy?" she asked with wide eyes.

Chandler sighed, "What has Auntie Rachel been telling you, child? Shoes are shoes. Just pick a pair, please?" Chandler sighed as the doorbell buzzed, and told Michelle, "You better be wearing your shoes when I come back!"

He marched toward the door, and wrenched it open, displeased at whoever was going to make him more late than he already was. He fought down a 'grr' of frustration when he registered Angie standing in front of him. He realized with a tiny surge of satisfaction that he no longer cared what she had to say. He loved Monica, and his feelings for her were secure. Maybe the previous night _was_ the closure he needed.

"Angie, I don't have time for this. Whatever you have to say, don't," Chandler suggested, explaining, "Michelle is going to be late and I have to get to work. What could you possibly have to say to me that you think I'm going to want to hear?"

"I'm – I've decided to sue for custody of Michelle," she stated, shakily, clearly unsure of what she was doing. Her voice made it sound as if she was on the verge of tears.

"You can't be serious!" Chandler exclaimed in disbelief, "She doesn't even know you! What do you think being taken away from her home would do to her? She's four, Angie! She knows me and Monica and Joey and we're her only family! Imagine how you'd feel having to go live with some strange woman you don't know, taken away from everyone you love!"

"I'm sorry," was all she muttered, tears pooling in her eyes, her fingers fiddling nervously with a button on her coat.

"You're being selfish!" Chandler fumed, pleading, "Please don't do this to get at me. Michelle didn't do anything to deserve this."

"There's another option," Mary Angela said in a small voice, fighting away the sting of threatening tears. "Just give us a chance to be a family. You've been so distant, lately… but when we kissed I know you felt the connection we once had, too. Don't go back to her," she pleaded.

"Angie… don't do this," Chandler whispered, his voice strained, a tense combination of fearful and pleading. "Using Michelle to make me choose between you and Monica isn't fair. It's not right, using your daughter like that. Don't you love either of us? Enough to let us be happy?"

"It's not about that," she said, evading the question, her eyes similarly avoiding his gaze, "I just want a chance to put everything right, again. I want to see my daughter."

"Please, Angie," he pleaded, "If you want to see Michelle, we can work something out! I would never keep you from her."

Mary Angela looked at him wearily, but said nothing.

"If you ever loved me, at all, you wouldn't do this. I can't lose my daughter. But I can't be with you, either! What happened to you, Angie? The woman I used to love would never have tried to pull this kind of shit," he said gently, his tone non-accusatory. He touched her hand, barely grazing her skin, "She was loving and caring and only wanted the best for everyone else."

"I – I'm still the same," she insisted, "I've just come to realize life isn't all strawberries and whipped cream. To do what's best, sometimes you have to break the rules! No one else is going to look out for me."

Chandler stared at her sadly, "When did you get so cynical?"

"Since I've had to live without the love of my life for three years. I screwed up and I know it! Now that I'm trying to right my mistakes, no one will let me! I just want a chance to fix everything. I just want a chance! Just one."

"Angie, it took you the better part of three years to figure this out! How important could it be? Any chance for us was abolished a long time ago. Stop holding on to 'us' because 'we' are safe. You deserve better. You can have what Monica and I have! You don't have to settle for me because we worked once upon a time."

"You don't understand! I'm not settling. I want you. I wanted you then, and I still want you, now. It's all the same. The alternative is unthinkable. I can't imagine you lying in her arms every night. Kissing her. Sleeping with her. Marrying her. That used to me! It hurts me," she tapped her chest, "right here. Like I'm being stabbed in the heart repeatedly. Don't tell me how I feel, just because you no longer feel the same way."

"Angie… please, think about what you're doing…"

"I have," she sniffed, rubbing an eye to sweep away a tear, "Everything else aside, I'm doing this for my daughter. If I don't get to have you, at least I can have her. Mothers usually win court cases involving small children. My lawyer says he thinks I may have a shot."

Chandler looked horrified. "You've already consulted a lawyer?" he asked, terrified.

She nodded, "I'm sorry it's come to this, but I can't sit idly by and let my opportunities pass me by. I did that for three years. This is the end. I'm taking my life back."

Chandler shot her another pleading stare, "But what about me? Why does my life have to be in shambles to fix yours? Angie, you say you love me…"

"I do. And I'm sorry that this is hurting you. You have no idea how much I'm sorry, but I can't sacrifice myself to watch you love another woman. I'm sorry." With that, she turned to leave, an audible sob escaping her as she turned her back to him. She breathed in shakily and rushed down the hallway, not willing to break down in front of him. She wouldn't be weak anymore. Sincerity hadn't worked. Pleading hadn't worked. There were no alternatives left. He was going to see how much it hurt to lose someone he loved. Maybe then he'd see her side. She hoped.

Chandler watched her go, fighting down panic at the ultimatum he had been given. His first instinct was to call Monica. She would know what to do. She would tell him everything would be alright and help him make the right decision.

A sudden terrifying thought shot down his spine… what if she suggested Michelle was expendable? And they could have their own children together? He couldn't imagine Monica casting aside his daughter so carelessly, but then, he had never imagined that Mary Angela would do what she had done, either.

Why was life so complicated?

xx

Rachel, Joey, and Monica filed into Chandler's apartment, after work, their chatter carefree and excitable, until they noticed their friend strewn forlornly on the couch, his work clothes rumpled carelessly, several empty beer bottles at his feet, and noticeable tear tracks on his face.

Monica was immediately sent into panic mode, and rushed to his side, caressing his forehead maternally, checking for a temperature. What had happened? How could he have gone from gloriously happy to wretchedly miserable all in the course of less than eight hours? When they had disbanded after breakfast, he was upbeat and hopeful about the impending changes to their living arrangements. "Honey, please talk to me! What happened? Where's Michelle?" The realization that Michelle was nowhere to be found immediately made her wonder: what if the little girl had been hospitalized? Or worse?

Chandler looked up at her, his own face registering panic at the last question, his words slurred slightly, whether because he was drunk or his emotional state, Monica wasn't sure. "Shit!" he cursed, "She's at daycare! I forgot my own goddamn daughter! Angie's right, she's going to take her away," he muttered sadly, through a hiccup, "What am I going to do without her?"

Monica looked at him confused, "What are you talking about? Why would Mary Angela take her?"

"She came by today. Mary Angela, I mean. She's suing me for custody of Michelle," he explained, miserably, "And now, she's going to win, because I'm a terrible father and forgot my own kid!"

"Shh, you are not a terrible father," Monica comforted, looking to her friends to support her, they nodded along eagerly. "I don't know what that woman said to you, but you are an excellent father." She looked to Rachel, and explained, "Rachel's going to go get Michelle and everything is going to be okay. She's fine, probably having fun at daycare, not even noticing. Okay? You trust me?" Rachel took the hint, and with a hasty reassurance, rushed out the door to retrieve her niece.

Once Rachel had gone, Joey moved closer to his best friend, settling on the coffee table across from the couch Chandler was sprawled on, his girlfriend sitting next to him, stroking his hair, trying to calm him down from his frenzied state. Monica had never heard Joey's voice sound so angry, "What exactly did my sister say to you, man?"

Chandler scratched his head wearily, scuffing the toe of his tennis shoe against the arm of the couch, focusing on that in a futile attempt to distract himself from the inevitable rush of emotions the question flooded his system with, "She wants me to choose," he answered distractedly.

Joey and Monica looked at one another, still confused.

"Choose what?" Monica asked, softly.

"Between you and Michelle," he clarified, burying his face in the couch cushion, " She said if I break up with you and come back to her, she won't sue for Michelle anymore. How am I supposed to pick? I love you both so much" he implored. "Tell me what to do. I can't pick between my daughter and the love of my life." Monica smiled inwardly at the admission she was the love of his life, but outwardly remained serious.

"Honey, You're not going to lose either Michelle or me. I love you and Michelle loves you. We're both here for good." Chandler stared into her eyes, a hint of relief shining through his panic. He couldn't help but feeling a little guilty for even entertaining the thought that Monica might suggest he relinquish Michelle to her mother and 'pick' her instead. The way she was responding to the crisis, a welcome combination of level-headed and protective, was the most comforting thing Chandler could imagine. Her feelings on the matter were pushed into the background for his sake. That kind of dedication and selflessness was priceless, and he knew it. If she were anyone else, Chandler wasn't sure he'd have made it through the last couple of weeks.

Michelle doesn't even know Mary Angela! She's been an absentee mother for three years! The courts are going to side with you, if it comes down to a custody battle. If it comes to that. Trust me, honey. This is just some sick twisted game Mary Angela is playing to hurt you and we are not going to let her have that satisfaction."

"She's not bluffing! She's already got a lawyer!" Chandler cried, "He told her that she has a good shot at winning. He said the courts don't like to take young children away from their biological mothers! I'm just her father," she stated forlornly.

Joey was uncharacteristically logical. "No you're not, dude. You're not 'just' anything. You are the only parent Michelle has ever known and a damn good one," he said fiercely.

"But what about what her lawyer said?" Chandler whimpered.

"We won't go down without a fight," Monica promised, "We love that little girl, as much as you do. She belongs with you, and we'll make sure that happens. Any judge worth his salt is going to be able to see that. Right, Joey?" Monica asked, looking at Joey pleading for him to offer additional reassurance. He nodded stiffly, boiling anger still apparent underneath his calm expression.

"Dude, there's just no way Michelle is going to be taken away from you." He stood up and paced in front of the coffee table, angrily. "I love my sister, but she's fucking deluded if she thinks she's taking Michelle from you." He stopped his pacing suddenly, and announced, "I have to go. I'm not letting her get away with this. Enough is enough. I'm sick of her pulling this shit and dragging your feelings through the mud. Pulling Michelle into this twisted game is despicable. She's gone too fucking far this time. Ma and Pa will know where she is." He marched to the door, wrenching it open, and stalked out, slamming it behind him. Monica and Chandler watched him go, apprehensive.

xx

_It's been a while!_

_Are you guys as happy as I am that this is finally posted? It seemed to take forever a few times over to get the motivation to write this. The after-holiday blahs were getting to me, I think. I hope I'm back on track now, though. And it's not all bad! I've managed to stick with my New Year's Resolution so far! Hope you're all fairing as well._

_If you didn't guess from the content of this chapter, following the poll following the last chapter, by a rather resounding majority, you, my lovely readers, voted to see the remaining few chapters out. I hope they're what you all were expecting :P Two more and an epilogue to follow. We're getting close!_

_Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review! :)_


	16. Chapter 16

**Listen To Your Heart – Chapter Sixteen**

xx

Joey stormed down the walkway towards his parents' home, his angry breathing rough and unsteady. He forced himself to take a deep breath in an attempt to settle some of his anger at his sister. The whole cab ride he'd had his fist balled up, and had to continually remind himself that punching something was not a good idea. He wasn't a violent person, but seeing Chandler in such a horrible state due to his damn sister's selfishness had thrown him into a fury. He couldn't believe she'd dare try such a thing! He was going to give her a piece of his mind if it was the last thing he did.

He banged on his parents' front door, loudly, ignoring the doorbell. Screw not hitting something.

Almost immediately Gloria answered the door, eyeing her son, her warm brown eyes wide with worry. "Joey, dear, what's wrong? Are you okay, darling? Tell me what's happened."

Joey swallowed down a lump of anger and demanded, without answering the question, "Where's Angie?"

His mother glanced up at him carefully and suggested, "Your sister isn't here. Maybe you should come inside. There's no point in yelling on the doorstep and attracting the attention of all the neighbours."

Joey huffed but listened to his mother anyway, stepping through the doorframe and stomping into the kitchen – so she'd know he still wasn't pleased – and settled at the table, where his father was already seated. Joey Sr. looked up at his son, and chuckled. "What's got your pants in a twist? Rachel tell you she's pregnant?"

Gloria shook her head severely at her husband, behind her son's back, suggesting now was not the time for jokes. He shrugged back sheepishly.

Joey just glowered. "Dad, do you know where Mary Angela is?" he snipped.

Joe raised an eyebrow at his wife questioningly, "Why? What's going on? Is your sister in trouble?"

Joey scoffed, "No. But she will be by the time I get through with her! You will not believe what she did!"

Joe sighed, and removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose warily, "Look, son, is this about Chandler? I know you want what's best for him… but don't you think it'd be a good thing if he and Angie could make it work? They have a child together. Think of Michelle. Angie only made a stupid mistake. She was hardly 20, for God's sake."

"I _am_ thinking of Michelle!" Joey insisted, "Angie is being selfish, and… and stupid. I'm not even sure she's in love with Chandler at all, the way she's acting. She's just jealous of Monica, and messing with Chandler's head because of it! She needs to grow up and move on. Letting her do this to him is cruel!"

"Joey, dear," his mother interjected, "Trust me, we know how you feel," Joey Sr. scoffed and rolled his eyes, "but this isn't our battle. We adore Chandler – and Monica, too – as much as anyone. We want what's best for them. But we want what's best for Mary Angela, too. This is something that the three of them have to figure out on their own. They're all adults, now. They don't need us to complicate their lives."

"But Ma," Joey whined, "Angie's messing everything up! Chandler was happy! It took us years to get him over her and happy again! And it's all because of Monica! If Mary Angela ruins that…"

"She'll feel horrible and never forgive herself," Gloria finished, "You've got to trust that your sister will do the right thing. She was raised to be a good girl. She's asking Chandler to make a choice. It's ultimately his decision."

"Dad?" Joey looked to his father for support.

Joe raised his hands defensively, "Your mother is right. It's in Chandler's hands. He's got two beautiful women in love with him – the lucky bastard. The choice is his, not yours. Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"But you don't get it! She's ruining everything!" Joey wailed, "Chandler's happy. Monica is the closest thing that Michelle has ever known to a mother! Who is Angie to make him decide between the two of them! Angie may be my sister, but Chandler is as much my brother! And if I have to choose between supporting her or him, after she pulled this, it's gonna be him!"

"Support him, dear?" Gloria questioned, looking at her husband hesitantly, "Who says you have to choose a side? If Chandler decides he doesn't want to be with Mary Angela, he'll tell her. Nothing is stopping him from staying with Monica if he wants to. We'll be happy for him and Michelle, no matter what happens."

Joey stared open-mouthed at his parents, "You mean Angie didn't tell you? Chandler shot her down, Ma. So she gave him an ultimatum; either he dumps Monica or, she's going to sue him for custody of Michelle."

Gloria eyed him warily, "This isn't some joke you cooked up, is it, dear? This isn't funny, Joey. You should know better than this. My little Mary Angie would never blackmail anyone."

Joey Sr. nodded in agreement. "You must be mistaken, son. She wouldn't do that. Angie's a good girl. You know that."

"I'm serious!" Joey insisted, "I wouldn't have believed it either, if I hadn't walked into my brother's apartment to find him freaking out! He was beside himself with panic! He even forgot to pick up Michelle from daycare and you know how much he loves that little girl! Monica's with him now, trying to calm him down, while I sort this out," he spat. "So if you know where Mary Angela is, please, please tell me. For Chandler and Michelle's sakes," he pleaded.

"I'm sorry, dear," Gloria apologized, "We really have no idea where your sister is. She hasn't been back in the city long. I don't think she has a permanent place, yet. She hasn't given us a number, either. She always visits us, here."

"Pa?"

After a brief pause, Joe averted his eyes and shook his head as well, responding quietly, "Sorry, son."

Joey stomped his foot in frustration and cursed under his breath, "How the hell am I supposed to help him?" he implored, "I'm a shitty friend and brother. I can't let this happen… if she sues and wins… he'll be destroyed. Michelle is his life. And he loves Monica so much. You don't understand…"

"Oh, honey, come here," his mother insisted, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting hug, "Chandler is going to be fine. You can't blame yourself for this. He's an amazing Dad and we all know this. We love our daughter, but if it comes down to a custody battle, we know that Michelle needs the parent she's grown up with. She's four now, she'll be asked who she wants to live with, too. Trust me on this, sweetie. Chandler will be fine."

"But I don't want him to be fine!" Joey wailed, "I want him to be happy, like he was! It's not fair. What if it doesn't work out like that? I can't take that chance! I need to talk to Angie and make her see!"

Joe, who had been sitting silently up until that point, spoke up, his voice soft. "I know where you can find her." Before Joey could interject, he amended quickly, "Don't be upset at your mother. She didn't know I knew."

Joey glared at him angrily, "What the hell, Dad! So Mom didn't know. What about you? You just said you didn't know where she was, either!"

"Joe!" Gloria questioned, shocked, "I can't believe you would even think twice about this! Poor Chandler. And Michelle! Michelle, Joe!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Joe apologized, "I thought I was doing what's best for my little girl, letting her have a shot with the man she loves – Chandler's a good man. And Angie deserves her family! But…"

"But…?" Joey drawled, mockingly, glaring at his father, "You suddenly had a little light bulb go on in your head, and realized she's being a selfish bitch? Or…?"

"Don't call your sister that," Joe said defensively, "She made a mistake."

"Sure, what happened three years ago was a mistake. What's she's doing now is calculated and cruel, and selfish, and Chandler doesn't deserve it."

"You're right," Joe agreed, simply.

Joey stared at his father, open-mouthed, "Did you say I was right, Pa?"

"I did," Joe nodded, "Chandler's a good man and father. He doesn't deserve to have his daughter taken away. I'm a father, too. I understand," he paused, adding carefully, "Chandler's lucky to have you, son."

Joey shook his head emphatically. "No. _I'm_ lucky to have him; he's done so much for me. I owe him this much. So where is she?"

xx

"Angie!" Joey cried, banging repeatedly on his sister's apartment door, "Open up! I know you're in there! Dad told me you were! So open up! I'm not leaving until you let me in! I'll sleep out here if I have to! Open uuupppp!" Sighing when he received no answer, Joey plopped down, leaning against the door, and called out, "That's okay! Fine! I'll just be sittin' here. Waiting!"

After an indistinguishable amount of time, Joey awoke to the feel of someone kicking his boot, and jolted into full awareness, his hands raised defensively. Had he fallen asleep?

He stood up quickly, coming face to face with his sister. He glared at her.

"Hey, sleepyhead! What're you doing sleeping against my door?" Mary Angela asked, her tone bordering on playful.

Recalling the embarrassing ordeal of pounding and kicking on her apartment door, begging her to open it, when she wasn't even home, Joey shrugged sheepishly. "I thought you were inside. Where the hell have you been?!" he asked, before remembering that he was mad at her, and setting his face into the appropriate scowl.

She bounced the bag of groceries in her arms, pointedly. "Hmm, getting food, maybe?" Joey peered into the bag curiously, ignoring his sudden hunger pains. Mary Angela smiled at him. "Hungry?"

Damn! Why did she have to know all his week spots? "No," Joey glared at her, "I think we need to talk."

Mary Angela sighed in resignation, pausing in the process of unlocking the door, and turned to her brother. "Chandler told you, huh?" she asked, settling the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter.

Joey nodded emphatically. "Hell, yeah!"

"Joe, before you start thinking I'm the biggest bitch alive, I-" she started to explain.

"I don't want to hear it!" Joey interrupted, "Do you have any idea what you're doing, Angie?! Any idea at all?! I never thought I'd say this, but I'm ashamed you're my sister! I don't recognize you! I love you, but this is the stupidest thing you've ever done! I was there when you got busted for smoking at school! When you got suspended for punching Tina Delvecchio! When you got pregnant out of wedlock at 21! This is nothing compared to those. How could you do this to him?"

"I just want to see my daughter, Joe!" she claimed, innocently.

"Don't fucking lie to me," Joey fumed, "Chandler would never, ever stop you from seeing Michelle. Never. He just wouldn't."

Mary Angela sighed in acceptance, knowing that if she didn't spill, Joey would just get more and more upset, "Fine. I'm in love with him. I need him. Is that what you wanted to hear? Because that's all I've got," she shot back.

Joey scoffed, "Love? That's what you'd do to someone you're in love with! No wonder Tony Ciccio dumped you in 8th grade after you told him you loved him!" Joey spat.

"Fuck you." Mary Angela fumed, "You wouldn't understand!"

"Try me!" Joey snapped, glowering, "I can't wait to hear your dumbass excuse for pulling this shit."

"When I saw him at your reception with that stupid little girlfriend of his, it felt like a piece of my heart had been torn out! I just wanted to rip her eyes out. After I'd left him, I never really realized how much I missed Chandler and everything about him until just then. The way he smiles… how great he is with Michelle… How he wraps his arms around your waist in just the right way… I mean, I always regretted leaving, in the back of my mind, but I could always almost justify it to myself, thinking I did the right thing because I was so young and un-prepared to settle down… but then, seeing him again, there… our kid in his arms. He looked really amazing. Then he walked off into her arms…. And I just lost it. I knew I needed that connection with him, again. All the feelings from years ago that I'd almost managed to bury, just came rushing back full force. Maybe even stronger than before."

Joey scoffed. "So you're jealous that Chandler has someone new? So you're trying to steal his daughter? What's wrong with you?!" he snapped.

"I'm not stealing Michelle! She's my daughter, too!" Mary Angela cried, "I gave birth to her! She's mine!"

"Now you sound like a little child claiming a toy!" he seethed, "Michelle is a person, not a toy! You can't pick her up and drop her whenever you damn well feel like!"

"You know what, screw you!" Mary Angela spat petulantly, "I don't need to talk to you about this. Get out of my apartment!"

"Yes. You do," Joey insisted through clenched teeth, "You don't have to talk, but you're going to listen to me! I found my brother lying on his couch hysterical! And it's your damn fault!"

Mary Angela paused, her icy stare melting slightly, her rigid stance softening. "Chandler was crying?"

"You forgot the 'because of you!'" Joey spat, "And yes! He was!"

"Look," Mary Angela said half-apologetically, her tone still edgy, "I'm sorry it had to happen this way. But he's got a choice to make. It's either his daughter or his stupid girlfriend."

"Her name is Monica," Joey snipped, his voice hard, "And she's ten times the woman you are." Joey sneered, "If you thought you were going to trick Chandler into dumping Monica so you'd get everything you want, without earning it, you're out of your mind. We both know if this case went to court, Chandler would be a shoe in to win custody."

"You don't know that!" Mary Angela insisted, her tone flustered, "I - I consulted my lawyer, and–"

"Bullshit," Joey stated, "Lie to everyone if you want, but I see right through you. I may not be the smartest man in the world, but I know you. You're just a scared little girl, blackmailing to get what you want."

"You don't understand!" Mary Angela wailed. "I need him!" She scanned the room, as if looking for inspiration, before offering a comparison, "How would you feel if you saw Rachel with another man? You watched her kiss him, and then, just to drive the point home that you're no longer a part of her life, her new guy picked up your daughter and she called him Dad!" she grumbled.

"What?" Joey questioned, fighting down a laugh at the poor comparison, "You paint quite a picture, Ange. Besides… the situation with me and Rachel is totally different." He smiled thinking of his wife. "Neither of us has left the other! And Michelle doesn't call Monica Mom, anyway. Though she might as well," he huffed.

"She doesn't?" Mary Angela asked, her voice sounding small and child-like.

"No." Joey paused to consider, answering thoughtfully, "Maybe Michelle called her 'Mon?' Her name is Monica…"

"Oh," Mary Angela said quietly, suddenly feeling stupid for not making the connection, or having the courage to ask Chandler about it, previously.

"Look," Joey said, matching her softer tone, "I understand that you're hurt Chandler moved on and has 'replaced' you. You're only human. But, please, if you love him like you say you do, you won't go through with this. Do you know what a custody battle between the two of you would do to him? Or Michelle? Think of your daughter. If you want to see Michelle, tell Chandler. He would never keep you from her. Just don't destroy his happiness. Please, as your brother, I'm begging you, Angie."

Mary Angela sniffed, fighting back the impending sting of tears, "I really am sorry about all of this. I know I've done some bitchy things… but I was desperate. And it hurts, God it hurts, to know that he could replace me so easily. Like, maybe he thought I did the right thing leaving, so he could find someone better."

Joey's tone softened further, "Trust me, it wasn't like that at all. For months he'd just sit and wallow, thinking about you, just hoping you'd come back. He loved you so much, Ange." Mary Angela winced at the past tense, "He wore his wedding ring for two damn years after you left! He wore it for a while, even after he met Monica! If you think he replaced you, just like that," Joey snapped his fingers, "you have no idea. It took years, and it was a struggle. He worked hard to get where he is now and he deserves his happiness. Seeing you trying to push him back there, it just…" Joey stumbled, unable to find a fitting word to complete the sentence, "It makes me so angry."

"Joe, I'm not changing my mind on this. I'm sorry. I think you should just go," Mary Angela stated evenly, "We're just getting one another upset. It's my legal right to sue for custody of my biological child! We're done, here."

"But you're doing it to get back at Chandler for getting over you!" Joey snipped, as Mary Angela pulled him forcibly towards the door. "It was you who forced him to eventually have to get over you, in the first place! You left him. He couldn't wallow for the rest of his life! Now to see you resenting him for that… Angie, I swear, if you weren't family…" he cut himself off, forcing down his anger, and stated his purpose for coming, clearly and evenly, "Look, just, don't do this. This is me asking you nicely. Trust me, if Chandler gets subpoenaed, I'll be the first person on your doorstep. And you don't want to see me really angry. I know some things that would look very bad for you in court," He paused huffing angrily at his sister's shocked expression, and snipped threateningly, "That's right; you aren't the only one who know how to blackmail," just as the door slammed in his face.

xx

"It's going to be okay, honey," Monica comforted her boyfriend, stroking his back soothingly, "Trust me on this."

Chandler ran a hand down his face warily. "Do you think Joey has convinced her to change her mind?" he wondered, almost innocently, looking up at Monica with wide blue eyes, begging her for an affirmative answer.

"I don't know, sweetie," she answered truthfully, not willing to offer the more comforting lie, adding helpfully, "I do know that everything is going to turn out okay, though."

"What if it doesn't, though?" Chandler worried, "There's a chance I could lose Michelle. And if not her, then you! This isn't fair. I finally manage to pick up the shattered pieces of my life, and glue them all back together… figure out what I want… and now it's all up in the air again."

Monica hugged him tightly. "Shh, honey. You're over-thinking everything. You are an amazing boyfriend, and an even better father. You're not going to lose anyone because that woman is blackmailing you. We won't let that happen."

"It's not up to you, though, if this goes to court!" Chandler reasoned, "What if a judge decides I'm not a 'good enough' father? Who decides what's 'good enough' for me to keep my daughter?"

"If it goes to court, you'll be a sure thing, sweetie. Mary Angela abandoned her daughter! She hasn't seen her in three years; Michelle doesn't even know her! And what's more, everyone that knows you will testify that you're a good Daddy. Me, Joey, Rachel, Ross, Julie, Phoebe, your parents, Joey's parents, Gunther… the list goes on. Trust me on this, baby. You need to calm down, stop over-thinking this and just let your thoughts settle."

Chandler sighed, heavily. "Easier said than done. This is all I can think about."

"We're back!" Rachel announced, unknowingly interrupting her friends' serious conversation, as she and Michelle burst through the front door. Michelle immediately ran for her father and Monica, weaseling her way into the few inches between them.

"Daddy! I had the bestest day at daycare!"

Rachel laughed, "Hard to believe we were worried about her at all, she was having the time of her life! She didn't even notice I was late to pick her up, and didn't want to come home when I did show up!"

Chandler smiled, relieved that Michelle didn't seem any worse the wear for being forgotten at daycare a few extra hours. Chandler turned to his daughter, addressing her, as he wrapped an arm affectionately around her, and by extension, Monica. They were sitting so closely it was impossible not to. "What happened, sweetie?"

"I got to stay extra time!" she explained, happily, "Usually you or Mon or Auntie Pheebs or Uncle Joey or Auntie Rach comes and picks me up before painting time. But I got to do a painting today!"

They smiled, as she produced a paper proudly. "Yeah? What did you paint, sweetie?" Monica asked, and the three adults gathered expectantly around the painting.

Michelle unfolded the paper, reverently, and they all chorused praise simultaneously, "It's beautiful," "Pretty," "Nice job, sweetheart!"

Michelle smiled and pointed to different vaguely 'people' shaped blobs, that had been labeled with a marker, clearly with help from a teacher, "I painted our family! Here's Daddy. And Mon. And Auntie Rach. And that one's me. And this is Uncle Joey. And these ones are Uncle Ross, Auntie Julie and Auntie Pheebs. And this is Granpa and Gramma and Grandma." Michelle looked up at them proudly, looking for approval.

"Wow," Chandler said, impressed with his daughter's child-like interpretation of her family, "You've got a big family, huh? You managed to fit us all on one paper, though!"

"Yep! Miss Meer asked me how come I didn't want to call any of them Mom, but I told her that I don't got one, 'cause I got a Dad and Mon and lotsa Uncles and Aunties instead."

"That you, do," Chandler agreed.

"And we all love you very much," Monica added. Chandler and Rachel nodded in agreement.

"Yeps. I know. See that's why I put a heart here," Michelle explained pointing to a red shape, in a messy heart shape, "'Cause hearts are for love. And families are aposed to love one another."

Chandler grinned at her, his spirits immensely lifted. "Did anyone ever tell you you're really smart?"

Michelle beamed back. "Yep! You did, Daddy! And Uncle Ross told me I can come visit him at the musim if I want to learn more," she informed seriously. Chandler, Monica and Rachel laughed.

Rachel whispered to her niece, "Just make sure you don't let Uncle Ross take you by the dinosaur exhibit, or you'll never get away!"

Michelle shrugged noncommittally, "I like it when Uncle Ross talks about dinosaurs! He makes funny sounds for them!"

Rachel laughed and joked to the others, "Well at least Ross has someone to listen to his stories." She kissed the top of Michelle's head. "Thanks for saving our ears, sweetie." Michelle giggled, not understanding what the big deal was.

Rachel gasped, suddenly, "Ah, crap," she glanced at Michelle, then Chandler, "uh, I mean sugar, my soap is on! You guys don't mind if I head back to my apartment to watch, do you? Who knows what's going on with Luke and Laura today?"

Monica shook her head, answering sardonically, for her and Chandler, "Nah. Who are we to get in the way of great entertainment? Thanks for picking up Mishi for us."

""Hey, no problem," Rachel waved off the statement, noncommittally.

"Can I come?" Michelle pleaded looking up at her Aunt, "I like watching soapies with you."

Rachel shrugged. "As long as your Daddy and Monica are okay with it," she said, lacing the statement with a question, looking to her friends.

Michelle looked to her Dad, pleading, "Can I?"

"Sure, honey," he agreed.

"Yay!" Michelle chorused, hopping off the couch and running over to her aunt, and taking her hand, bouncing it up and down with childish exuberance.

"Let me know what happens when Joey returns, okay?" Rachel asked, as she led Michelle to the door, " And, just so you know, Chandler, we're all behind you no matter what happens. Feel better, okay?"

Chandler smiled, "I appreciate that."

"Okay, I'll be right across the hall if you need me."

Once the door had closed behind Rachel and Michelle, Monica turned to Chandler, "You feel a little better now that you know Michelle's okay?"

Chandler nodded. "Yeah. I just feel so guilty for letting it happen at all. But it's always nice to know you haven't traumatized your child," a hint of a self-depreciating smirk on his face.

"Hmm, that almost sounded like a joke, mister," Monica teased gently, fully aware of the tense atmosphere, "I'm thinking you're a little more relieved than you're letting on."

Chandler sighed. "You know me too well."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"God, no. I love it." Chandler smiled at her, "Thanks. For, you know, keeping me from becoming a total basketcase. If it weren't for you, I'd have been put in a straitjacket weeks ago."

Monica grinned back, pleased with the lightened atmosphere, and kissed him gently. "With me around that'll never happen. You know what I think you need?"

Chandler wrapped his arms around her gently, kissing her temple. "What's that?"

"You need to curl up in bed and just relax, and forget about all this shit that's happening. Just… take some down time from it all."

Chandler smiled. "That sounds nice. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"You stay with me."

Monica laughed. "You've got yourself a deal."

Chandler guided her into his room, by her hand, pulling down the blankets so she could scoot underneath them, and quickly followed her, pulling the duvet up to their chins, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

After several minutes of contented silence, spent just holding one another, Chandler spoke up, his voice soft and uncertain. "Mon? You don't think I'm being selfish, do you? Wanting to keep both you and Michelle?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. What gave you that idea?"

She felt Chandler shrug and answer quietly, "Just something Mary Angela said..."

"It's not selfish, baby," she promised, "You've worked hard to have the connection you do, with both me and Michelle. Good relationships aren't built overnight. You've earned your happiness."

Chandler shrugged again and turned his eyes downward. Sensing his hesitance, Monica shifted in his arms, so she was facing him, and kissed him deeply, more for the emotional aspect than for the physical sensation, hoping the familiar touch would convey to him how much he meant to her, and ease the lingering tension in the room. Maybe then he would be able to drift off. It was killing her to see him so upset over something he had no control over. The fact that Mary Angela, his ex-wife and the mother of his child, could be so cold and cruel to two people she claimed to love was mind-blowing to Monica. She couldn't imagine doing that to anyone, let alone people she loved. If Joey hadn't stormed off to confront her first, Monica knew she would have felt compelled to say something on her boyfriend's behalf. It just wasn't right.

"I love you," Chandler mumbled quietly, once they broke away, sinking back into his pillow, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

"I love you, too," Monica agreed, stroking his hair gently, "Now, rest. You've had a rough day." She ran a hand gently across his forehead and eyelids, encouraging him close them, which he did obediently. Within minutes Monica was relieved to feel his breathing deepen and regulate, as sleep overcame him. She smiled, pleased to see the tension of the day had left his face, leaving a relaxed and peaceful expression in its wake.

Quietly, careful not to disturb him, Monica crawled out from the circle of his arms, pulling the blankets tighter around him, and kissing him gently on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, baby," she mumbled.

Exiting the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her, she was surprised to find Joey sitting on the couch.

Nervously she took a seat next to him, asking expectantly, her anxious tone obvious, "So? How'd it go?"

Joey sighed. "Not as well as I hoped. My sister is stubborn; she's got her heart set on getting her way, and it doesn't matter who she hurts in the process."

"So she's still planning to sue for custody?" Monica asked despondently, worried about the strain that would put on her boyfriend.

Joey shrugged. "I really don't know. I said some things and she said some things. There was some yelling. The best we can hope for, is for her to come around on her own."

Monica flopped back on the couch, tiredly, "This is just so frustrating! I can't imagine repeating this process and all the stress of it, tenfold for a custody battle!"

Joey shrugged sheepishly at this, picking a cuticle nervously and looking at his friend apologetically, "There's one more thing. I kinda implied that if she brought the case to court, I'd show the letter she wrote me the day she left."

"Joey!" Monica scolded, "You blackmailed her?"

"I know, I know!" Joey whined, "But she was being so stubborn and she wouldn't listen and I just got mad and said it to hurt her."

"Do you think it'll stop her?" Monica asked, suddenly hopeful. Joey shrugged, pleased to be off the hook for stooping to such a level. "What did the letter say? Does Chandler know about it?"

"No, I never showed him." Joey looked suddenly alarmed, "You won't tell him will you? I never showed him, because he was so hurt that Angie didn't leave him anything to say goodbye… but she did me! I felt guilty. In the letter she basically said how she never wanted to be a mother, and that she regretted having Michelle so young, before she'd had a chance to sow any wild oats. She loved Chandler, but just couldn't deal with being a mother. She wasn't in that place, and that Michelle was better off with Chandler than with her. You know, basically stuff that wouldn't sound good at a custody hearing."

Monica shook her head as if to clear it, "Wow. I don't even know what to say. Is it wrong of me to hope that that puts her off? I mean I know it's just as wrong as what she's doing to Chandler… but, God, it'd be nice for all of this to just be over."

Joey nodded in agreement. "So how's Chandler doing?"

"He's resting," Monica explained, "I thought it'd be a good idea for him to take a nap. He's been all over the emotional map today, and needed some down time." Joey nodded, again.

"Did Rachel pick up Michelle okay?"

Monica nodded, "Yeah, they're over at your place watching General Hospital. Your wife has got our kid hooked on soap operas!"

Joey smirked, "Our kid? As in yours and Chandlers?"

Monica flushed, "Would that be so bad?"

Joey's smirk deepened. "Nah, it's just funny to hear you say it. I bet you two will have a kid of your own one day. A little Mondler!" he joked, "And Michelle loves you. I bet you anything that if she could pick anyone in the world to be her 'Mom,' it'd be you."

"Really?" Monica asked, trying not to sound too needy.

"Yeah," Joey agreed, easily, "You know… when I was talking to Angie today… that was the clincher. She was jealous of your relationship with Michelle. She thought she heard Michelle calling you 'Mom' at my wedding reception, and wow. She knows she can't hold a candle to you in Michelle's eyes and it's driving her crazy."

Monica smiled, squeezing Joey's hand tearily, "Thanks for telling me that. Somehow that was just what I needed to hear right now."

Joey grinned, "No problem. It's true, you know."

xx

"Michelle!" Monica called from the bathroom where she was filling the bathtub with warm water for the little girl's pre-bedtime bath, "are you ready for bath time?"

Michelle immediately came galloping into the bathroom, an eager smile on her face. Most children either loved or hated bath time; fortunately Michelle was in the former category. "Yeah! Can you make funny shapes in my hair like Daddy does?" she wondered, innocently.

"Of course, sweetie," Monica agreed, "Now c'mere, and stick 'em up, so I can take off your shirt and overalls." Michelle immediately applied, allowing Monica to remove her clothes and help her into the bubbly water. She giggled as Monica splashed her and handed her her squeaky rubber duck 'Quacker'.

Frowning, Michelle pointed to a grey plastic ship sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, "Mon? What's this?"

Monica laughed, "That's Daddy's boy boat," Monica explained, remembering how she has used the boat as a ploy to get her boyfriend to try taking a bath. She fought down another laugh. She'd never understand how a toy boat helped him feel more secure in his masculinity when taking solo baths.

Michelle tilted her head questioningly, "Daddy's got a toy for bath time, too?"

"He sure does, sweetie," Monica agreed, "He doesn't like baths very much, and it makes it more fun for him."

"Maybe you should help him take his baths!" Michelle suggested helpfully, "I like bath time a lot when you help me, acause it's more fun that way."

Monica laughed. "You know, sweetie, I think Daddy just might agree with you on that."

Michelle nodded proudly, pleased that her idea was helpful. She was quiet for a moment, and stared at the ship longingly, wanting to play with the newfound toy. "Can I play with Daddy's boat?"

"Sure you can sweetie, I don't think Daddy would mind," Monica agreed, laughing as Michelle immediately reached for the ship, her ducky abandoned as she skated the floating ship across her bath water, cutting through the bubbles.

As she played, Monica ran a soapy washcloth gently over her back. When she began to shampoo up Michelle's hair with her 'no tears' shampoo, Michelle demanded that she bring the handheld mirror over to the bath, so she could see the funny shapes Monica sculpted into her hair. She laughed when Monica created a pair of devil horns and squealed, "Put in a halo, Mon! I wanna be an angel!"

Monica laughed back, "I think that goes beyond my creative talent, sweetie," Monica explained, diverting her attention, "Hey, how would you like to be a punk rockstar," she asked, creating a mohawk in place of the horns.

Michelle shook her head, sending bubbles flying, "I don't want to be a rockstar. I wanna be a actor when I grow up. Like Uncle Joey."

Monica smiled, wondering what Chandler would think of his daughter's childish ambition to follow in her uncle's footsteps, "Have you told Daddy that?"

"Nope. I'll tell him tomorrow," she claimed, suddenly changing the topic out of the blue, "How come Daddy is gone to bed so early? He never goes to bed afore me."

"He was tired, honey," Monica explained, "He had a hard day, and it made him sleepy."

Michelle nodded solemnly in understanding, protesting as Monica started to rinse the shampoo out of her hair, tilting her head back and using a little bowl to pour water over her hair, "Aww, I wanted to make more shapes!"

"It's getting late, hon," Monica explained, "It's bedtime, now, bathtime is over. There's always tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Michelle agreed, unwillingly, a pout on her face.

"Do you wanna pull the plug?" Monica questioned.

Michelle looked at her nervously, asking as was her routine: "I won't get sucked down?"

Monica replied with the usual reassurance, "Of course not, sweetie. You're getting too big!"

Reassured, Michelle pulled the tab to release the stopper, and the water immediately began rushing out of the tub, swirling down the drain. Monica scooped Michelle out of the bathtub, wrapping her in a warm fluffy towel, drying the little girl's limbs off, setting her on the fuzzy bath mat and repeating the towel-drying process on her hair. Wrapping her in her favourite hooded Elmo towel, Monica lifted Michelle on to her hip, carrying her toward her room. "What jammies do you wanna wear to bed, tonight?" she asked, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Carrying the little girl, still on her hip, to answer the door, she wondered aloud to her, "I wonder who that could be? Auntie Rachel and Uncle Joey never ring the doorbell do they?"

"Nope!" Michelle agreed, cheerfully.

Erring on the side of caution, Monica peered through the peephole, surprised to see Mary Angela on the other side. She stepped back as if burned, causing Michelle to question her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, sweetie," Monica answered, distracted, as she unlocked and opened the door, against her better judgment.

"Hi."

xx

_Hey all, and thanks for the great enthusiasm. This is one of my favourite chapters of the series, and I hope you'll all agree. So leave me a review and let me know what you think! I've got a cold (winter sucks, btw) so they'd really brighten my day._

_This series is drawing to a close (one chapter and an epilogue left, guys!), so I'm going to have to decide on a new project soon, so I may be asking you all for opinions on that soon :)_

_However, my university is almost certain to resume (after a more than 11 week labour dispute) next week, so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write what with trying to catch up with 3 months of work! I'll do my best, though, and certainly won't disappear forever._

_Thanks for reading and reviewing :)_


	17. Chapter 17

**Listen To Your Heart - Chapter Seventeen**

xx

"Hi," Monica repeated flatly, staring solemnly at her boyfriend's ex-wife, unsure how to react to her sudden re-appearance after the threat that had been issued hours previous.

"Hi!" Michelle chorused, in a more friendly tone, unaware she was addressing her mother.

Opting to ignore Monica's coldness for the time-being, Mary Angela turned to the four-year-old, a forced smile on her face, "Hi Michelle! Do you remember me? From Uncle Joey's wedding? I'm Angie, Daddy's friend?" Monica scoffed audibly at the description of Mary Angela as a 'friend'.

Michelle frowned, her face scrunched up as she struggled to remember. After a moment of thought she shook head. "Nope."

The hurt on Mary Angela's face was obvious. She quickly forced a small smile, and replied, "Well I used to know your Daddy a long time ago, when you were a baby."

"When I was a baby?" Michelle asked in awe, unable to comprehend such a lengthy period of time, "That's a long time ago! I'm four now!" She held up four fingers proudly.

Mary Angela smiled wistfully, responding in a soft, barely audible voice, "I know." She forced away her nostalgic thoughts and added cheerfully, "I like your outfit!"

Michelle grinned. "It's my Elmo towel! Me and Mon just did bathtime! I got to play with Daddy's boat! So I'm clean now!"

Mary Angela couldn't help but laugh. "That sounds like fun."

"Yep!" Michelle agreed with an exuberant nod, "Monica does good bathtimes."

Monica, who had been quiet up until this point, shifted Michelle onto her other hip, and made her presence known, her tone to Mary Angela a little harsher than she intended in front of Michelle, "As touching as this little reunion is, it's Michelle's bedtime. If you'd like to come in, Mary Angela, you can take a seat on the couch, and after I get this little munchkin," she poked Michelle, who giggled, "to bed, I'll be right with you." In the face of Monica's irritation, Mary Angela was unable to mount the courage to protest and agreed meekly, stepping through the threshold and following Monica to the couch.

Once Mary Angela was seated, Monica turned to Michelle informing her in a much sweeter voice than she had used towards Mary Angela, "Let's go get you ready for bed, huh?"

"Okay!" Michelle agreed. "Can I wear the hippo PJs and will you read me _Love You Forever_?" she questioned, hopefully.

"No problem, honey," she agreed. She turned to Mary Angela questioningly. "You don't mind, do you?" she asked, her tone suggesting Mary Angela had no choice but to agree.

Mary Angela smiled tightly. "No problem. Goodnight, sweetie," she added, in Michelle's direction. Monica frowned at the term of endearment, and Mary Angela's obvious attempt to insert herself into Michelle's bedtime ritual.

Michelle, oblivious to the tension, responded back, equally friendly, "Night, night!" as Monica whisked her off to her bedroom.

Mary Angela watched them go, silently. Once they had disappeared into the little girl's bedroom, inadvertently leaving the door ajar, Mary Angela stood, unable to resist moving closer so she could hear Monica and Michelle interact. She peeked carefully through the small crack, desperate to witness how this woman she hardly knew had managed to capture her husband's and daughter's hearts. She could felt the familiar pangs of jealousy searing her insides.

"Let's get off Elmo, and put on some jammies, okay?" she heard Monica ask, the sound of swishing cloth following as she presumably unfolded a pair pajamas for the little girl to wear.

"Mon!" Michelle squealed in response, shaking her head vigorously, "I said I wanted to wear the hippos! Those are elephants!"

"Oh, so they are!" Monica laughed. Mary Angela could hear Monica shuffling in a drawer, clearly hunting for the requested pyjamas. "I guess I should let you pick out your own clothes, huh? You know your animals better than me!"

"Yep!" Michelle giggled, "We learned animals in school! I know all the sounds they make, too!"

"Yeah?" Monica asked, "What sound does an elephant make?" In the small sliver of space that Mary Angela could see, she could just make out Michelle waving her arm like a elephant's trunk, her child-like interpretation of an elephant's trumpet filling the room.

Monica laughed as she threaded the little girl's legs through her pajama pants. "Very good, sweetie. Now lift up your arms so I can put your jammie top on, okay?" Mary Angela watched, as Michelle obeyed immediately, sticking her hands as high up into the air as she could stretch them.

"Are you trying to touch the stars?" Monica teased.

"I can't even get up to the ceiling!" Michelle giggled.

"The way you're growing like a weed, you'll be able to reach soon enough," Monica claimed, "You're just getting too big too fast! What are your Daddy and I going to do when you get big enough to go off to college?" Even through the barrier of the door, Mary Angela could make out her reflective tone.

"You and Daddy both say that! I'm growing good! Not too fast!"

"You're right, honey," Monica agreed, "We've got some time left with you, yet!"

"Yep!" Michelle agreed, "I'm not going to move out until I's at least ten."

"Ten, huh?" Monica laughed, "Good to know. Turn around, hon, so I can brush your hair." Mary Angela watched as the little girl turned, not even flinching as Monica brushed out her long damp hair. A sudden memory of 10-month-old Michelle crying bloody murder when she pulled out a knot in her baby fine hair shot into memory. She winced, forcing the thought away.

Her hair brushed, Michelle bounced off the bed. Mary Angela's heart skipped a beat, thinking the little girl was bounding towards the door but she stopped before reaching it, standing in front of her bookshelf. She plucked a book off the little shelf, carrying it back to her bed, where Monica was seated. Monica helped her under the covers, tucking them around her, before settling down next to her, opening the book.

Before Monica could start to read, Michelle called out, "Wait!"

"What's wrong?" Monica asked, her tone noticeably concerned. Mary Angela paused, tears unwittingly come to her eyes. It was touching to see how much Monica cared about Michelle… even though she wasn't her biological child.

"I can't go to sleep without Shell!" Michelle wailed. Mary Angela listened, unprepared for the nostalgic wave that the mention of the stuffed turtle she had given her baby daughter sent washing over her.

"Okay, let's look around," Monica suggested pragmatically, "He couldn't have left your room."

"Okay," Michelle sniffed, obviously upset at the thought of being unable to locate her stuffed friend.

After a search they eventually managed to locate him, from what Mary Angela could hear, underneath the bed. Through the crack she could make out Michelle grinning in relief, hugging the turtle tightly. She smiled at the sight, pleased to know something she had given her daughter was so meaningful to her. "I's not gonna lose him again."

"That's a good idea, sweetie," she heard Monica agree.

"Mon?" Michelle asked, her voice brimming with the curiousity of a child, "Where do Shells come from?"

Mary Angela held her breath as she watched, wondering what Monica would say, Did she even know that Shell had been a gift to Michelle from her mother? She was surprised when Monica answered, carefully, "Well, honey, when you were a little baby, and you had a Mommy, she gave you Shell."

"Why?"

"Because she loves you very much, and she knew that Shell would make a good friend for you, and so you could have someone to cuddle with and keep you safe when you sleep," Monica explained. Mary Angela blinked several times, fighting away tears, unprepared to believe that Monica would be so generous to her memory after what she had done. Michelle really did come first with her. If Monica was willing to put her misgivings aside and make peace for Michelle's sake… why couldn't she?

"Oh," Michelle nodded as if that made perfect sense, "Okay." After a short pause, she asked, "Where'd she go?"

"Your Mommy?" Monica asked, delaying the inevitable line of questioning. Michelle nodded. "Well, sweetie, sometimes Mommies get lost. That doesn't mean that they don't love you lots and lots." Mary Angela smiled at the explanation. Monica really was a natural with her daughter. She wondered if Monica was like that with all children, slightly envious.

Michelle frowned, looking at Monica curiously, "Mommies are big, like you and Daddy. How do they get lost?"

Monica laughed, "That's a good question, sweetie. I'm not sure," quickly adding to distract her, "Hey, are you ready to read your book, now?"

"Yep!" Michelle agreed, snuggling down into her bed, Shell tucked snuggly into her arms.

Monica smiled briefly at the adorable sight and began to read, "A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth," she began, in a soft voice. Mary Angela listened to her tell the story, her voice melodic and comforting – the perfect lullaby. She was the perfect mother figure.

As the book drew to a close, Monica's voice softened further, assumedly because Michelle was on the verge of falling asleep. "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be." Mary Angela heard the flutter of pages as Monica closed the book, watching through the crack as she leaned to kiss Michelle on the forehead, whispering a final goodnight.

Hearing Monica's quiet footsteps heading for the door, Mary Angela made a mad dash towards the couch, plastering an indifferent expression on her face, tapping her foot impatiently in an effort to seem bored. No sooner had Mary Angela put on the façade than Monica exited the room, closing the door gently behind her.

The two women stared at one another for a short moment, before Monica spat irritated, "I can't believe you. I can't believe you'd have the nerve to show your face here after what you did! You know what! Let me just go wake up Chandler, so you can talk. The sooner you leave, the better."

Mary Angela shifted uncomfortably. "Um, could you wait a minute? I wanted–"

"No," Monica spat, her fists balled angrily, "You don't get to ask anything! After what you did, you're damn lucky I even let you in! If Michelle wasn't sleeping in the next room…" she trailed off, leaving the threat empty.

"No, um, I meant, you don't have to do that. Go get Chandler, I mean," Mary Angela explained meekly, her stance timid in the face of Monica's anger, "I kind of wanted to talk to you."

Monica paused, already mid-way to her boyfriend's bedroom, and turned the face the other woman, her arms crossed, "Fine! I'm listening. Though I can't imagine what you could have to tell me that I'm going to want to hear!"

"I was jealous," Mary Angela blurted out, her words overlapping the end of Monica's sentence.

Monica exhaled loudly in anger. "That is the most stupid, selfish, _bratty_ thing I've heard! _You_ are a horrible person! Do you know what you've done to Chandler by threatening to sue for custody? Do you have any idea – even the slightest – how much Michelle means to Chandler?"

"I, uh- yes, I know. I was –" Mary Angela stuttered, fumbling to explain herself.

"No you don't!" Monica spat angrily, not willing to hear excuses, "Or you wouldn't be doing this!"

"It was never about Michelle," Mary Angela attempted to explain, again, "She's my daughter and I care about her–"

"You have a really funny way of showing that!" Monica interrupted, "You don't deserve to call yourself her mother anymore!"

Mary Angela sighed in frustration, torn between being angry and relenting. Neither option seemed appealing. "I telling you I know!" she growled, "Will you let me talk?!"

Monica seemed taken aback by her raised voice, since Mary Angela had been nothing but timid up until that point. She narrowed her eyes, warningly, but agreed with a curt nod.

"I know I was a bitch," Mary Angela began, "And I know it doesn't make it right, but I'm sorry," she paused, attempting to drum up the courage to admit what had been bothering her, "I saw you with Chandler and Michelle… and they both love you so much. Watching, it was like they didn't need me. And why would they? They have you! You're me, but ten times better, and they know that. And that hurts, okay? I guess I just wanted to make them need me again."

Monica's eyes softened marginally at the admission. She knew a little about not feeling 'good enough'; it was a feeling her mother had made her all-together too familiar with. However… "That's no excuse for what you did!" Monica countered, "And are still doing, may I add!"

"No. I'm not," Mary Angela sighed. "That was wrong me of me to do. I'm not asking for forgiveness, not that I think you'd give it, but… when Joey told me how Chandler broke down, after what I did… it hurt me, right here," she held her hand to her heart, "And I realized it was my fault. It was a wake up call. I was hurt and I was being a stubborn bitch because of it. That wasn't fair to anyone else."

"What are you saying?" Monica ventured, hesitantly, unwilling to jump to conclusions, only to have her hopes shattered.

"I've decided not to sue Chandler for custody," she said quietly.

"Oh," Monica said, dumbly, half-believing it was a cruel joke.

"Joey made me realize that Michelle belongs with Chandler." Mary Angela swallowed a heavy lump in her throat, "And you. In spite of what you may or may not believe, I really do love Chandler and I want what's best for him. And right now, that's you. I want him to be happy. I thought, maybe, he could be happy with me," her eyes welled with tears, "but that's just not the way it worked out."

Monica remained silent, not quite sure what to do with the admission. After all the yelling and hurled insults, 'thank you' seemed trite. She finally settled on: "What about Michelle?"

"I, um, I still want to see her sometime, maybe get to know her a little." Mary Angela half-asked, half-stated, her voice hesitant, "but she belongs with Chandler. Maybe we can work out a monthly schedule or something? I can be her Auntie Angie," she suggested, her tone overly bright at the suggestion. Her eyes told a different story. "It might not be a good idea for her to know I'm her," she glanced up at Monica carefully, "you know," she said, surreptitiously. The word 'mother' suddenly seemed laced with far too much meaning.

"Yeah," Monica agreed, softly.

"For what it's worth… I really am sorry," Mary Angela explained, seeming genuinely apologetic, "I hope you're happy with Chandler. I mean that sincerely."

Monica smiled half-heartedly at her, understanding how hard it must have been for her to say. She really did seem genuinely sorry. The both were quiet, an awkward silence filling the air. Monica hooked a thumb over her shoulder pointing to the room where Chandler was resting, "Would you, um, like me to go get Chandler, so you can tell him?"

"No," Mary Angela said quietly, "That's okay. I don't think he'd enjoy seeing me right now, anyway. I trust you'll handle it and do the right thing. Better than I would." 'Like everything else,' she thought with a self-depreciating smile, the images of Monica putting Michelle to bed floating unconsciously through her mind. The images served as a final nail in the coffin. She was doing the right thing.

"Oh, okay, then," Monica nodded awkwardly.

"I guess I should get going," Mary Angela said awkwardly.

Monica nodded, following her to the door.

Mary Angela slung her bag over her shoulder, half-smiling at Monica awkwardly. "Well, bye, then."

Before she could leave, Monica tapped her on the shoulder. Leaving the situation like this and saying nothing, now, seemed almost rude. Willing the words to come, Monica sputtered, "I – uh, um, thanks. Chandler and I really appreciate–"

"You don't have to say that," Mary Angela sighed, "It was my fault, not yours. I shouldn't have done it in the first place. My big brother was right. If I tried to sue for custody, Chandler would have won, hands down. It's better this way. I should be thanking you."

"Me?" Monica asked, incredulously.

"For making them happy," Mary Angela explained. "I saw you with Michelle, tonight," she admitted, knowing Monica would understand the significance of the statement.

"Oh," Monica said, unprepared for the compliment, from someone who less than an hour ago had deemed her 'the competition.'

Impulsively, Mary Angela reached to hug her. The friendliness of the gesture was beyond comprehension mere hours ago. But now… dare she say, it almost seemed… nice? Before Monica realized what was happening, Mary Angela had released her, and disappeared out the door.

Staring at the open door slack-jawed, Monica shook her head, in an attempt to shake off the surreal feeling of the past ten minutes. Had Mary Angela actually hugged her? And complimented her? Weren't they sworn enemies?

Deciding it didn't matter, as long as everyone was happy, Monica closed the door, locking it behind her, a huge grin spreading across her face. She flopped into the couch happily, fighting the urge to cry out in pure joy. She smiled dumbly at the blank TV for a moment, contemplating the last few moments before realizing that Chandler didn't know what had happened, yet. She couldn't stand another moment of him not knowing that he was not in jeopardy of losing his daughter, sleeping or not.

She slipped into Michelle's room quickly, to make sure she was slumbering peacefully, content to find the little sound asleep, a hand tucked under her pillow, a peaceful expression on her face. Unbeknownst to her, the world of the adults around her was once again stable. Monica plucked Shell off of the floor where he had fallen, as was the nightly ritual, and tucked him back into the bed with Michelle, kissing her lightly on the forehead so as to not wake her and exited the room, intent on sharing the good news with her boyfriend.

She rushed into his bedroom, the beaming smile never leaving her face. She crawled onto her side of the bed, careful not to bounce enough to wake Chandler. She wanted to meet his eyes as soon as he opened them. She wanted to stare into them as she told him what had happened, and see the relief in them firsthand. She lay down on her side, opposite him, so they were eye to eye.

Even in his sleep, his expression showed discontent. 'Not for much longer,' she thought, gently running a hand through his hair to rouse him. After a few moments he murmured something inaudible and shifted, his eyes squinting open blearily.

"Mon?" he mumbled, his voice rough and sleepy "What's wrong?" he wondered, in response to her waking him. He glanced at the clock, the bright green numbers declaring it was 9:17. "Why am I asleep?"

Monica simply grinned at him, unsure how to start. Chandler grinned back after a moment, unconsciously, wondering dumbly what was going on. "Nothing's wrong," she said eventually, "In fact, everything is great. And, you were asleep because you were tired. Do you remember what happened today?"

Given a moment to let the blurriness of sleep wash away, Chandler nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Mary Angela is suing me for custody of Michelle," he explained, running a hand across his day-old stubble wearily, adding solemnly, "Nothing 'great' about that. So what's up?"

"That's just it," Monica smiled, "While you were sleeping, she came by–"

He should have been able to read the good news on Monica's face, but the combination of frustration and resentment he felt towards his ex-wife clouded it. "She did? She has some audacity showing her face here after what she's done," he began, his tone short.

"Honey," Monica said, shaking her head, and placing a finger to his lips stopping him from saying anything else, "Don't." He stopped, and looked into her eyes, questioningly. "She's dropping the case."

"What?" Chandler asked in disbelief, jolting into a sitting position, unsure he had heard right.

Monica sat up to face him, as well. "She's decided not to pursue a custody battle," Monica expanded, "It's over, sweetie."

"Just like that?" he asked, sounding like a little child needing reassurance.

Monica nodded. "Just like that."

Chandler finally allowed a small smile to cross his face. "Why?" he wondered, "And why would she talk to you about it instead of me?"

"I'm not really sure, honey," Monica shrugged, "But from what she said, I think she saw me as trying to take her place in your life and Michelle's and was hurt. She was expecting to find you and Michelle exactly as she left you. The actual reality was a wake up call. She wanted things to be the way they were, so she needed me out of the way. I was the person she was really trying to get to, not you, or Michelle. She was just lashing out… and I guess something Joey said triggered something in her, and she realized how much she was hurting you and Michelle in the process of trying to get what she wanted."

"Really," Chandler stated, doubtfully.

Monica grinned at his disbelief, "Yes, really. I think she's finally accepted 'us,'" she gestured between them, "honey. And we're good. We're really good."

Chandler nodded, a small smile on his face, "Yeah, we are good. This is all just so surreal! Are you sure I'm not dreaming? I go to sleep, and everything is up in the air. I wake up, and everything's right again!"

Monica grinned wider, "Unless I'm dreaming, too, you're definitely awake. Though if we are dreaming, this would be as good a dream as I've ever had."

Chandler smiled back and reached to kiss her gently, adding, "Me too. I still can't believe Angie went to you with this! She seemed to hate you."

Monica shrugged, "Maybe that's why? Maybe she felt like she needed to make peace with me on a personal level? And you know what? If that was her goal, I think she succeeded."

"Yeah?" Chandler questioned curiously, "What gave you that impression?"

"Well, some of the things she said. She mentioned that she watched me put Michelle to bed… and, I don't know, just something in her voice, made me think, maybe, she was okay with it. I don't know, maybe I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy, sweetie." Chandler sighed happily, falling back onto the bed, pulling Monica with him, resting her head against his shoulder, playing with her hair, twirling it between his fingers. "I can't believe it's all over just like that. No more Mary Angela."

Monica shifted in the circle of his arms, slightly uncomfortable, "Well, not exactly… I think she still plans to see Michelle, sometimes, even if not as 'Mommy.' You are okay with that, aren't you?" she asked worriedly, "I mean Mary Angela is still her mother, don't you think she deserves that?"

Chandler sighed. "I guess… before this custody thing happened, once the dust had settled and the shock of her return had worn off, I wouldn't have batted an eyelash if she had asked to see Michelle. Now… it's hard not to think of her as the enemy."

Monica nodded, "I understand that completely, sweetie. It's your decision, but I think it'd be good, for both of them. When Michelle starts to get older, she's gonna ask questions that we can't answer with 'the stork brought you.' Maybe having Mary Angela around, even if it's not as 'Mommy,' would make having to answer those questions, eventually, easier."

"Maybe," Chandler agreed, "But is that enough reason to expose my daughter to her? What if she gets attached and Angie leaves again?"

"Well, honey," Monica considered, offering rationally, "there's an element of risk involved. It's up to you to decide if it's worth it. I think she is genuinely sorry, though. I think that's why she may not have wanted to tell you directly. Having to see that she hurt you was hard for her, once she realized what she was doing, and how selfish her reasoning was. That's the impression I got, anyway. Trust me on this one. Call it womanly instinct."

"You know I trust you, baby," he whispered, smiling into her eyes.

She smiled back, "I know. And I love you, you know that? No matter what happens."

Chandler nodded, a sentimental smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "You know I know that. And you know I love you, too, right?"

Monica grinned back, "Of course."

"Good."

After a few moments of comfortable silence, spend holding one another, Chandler added, "I can't wait until you're living here with us. It's going to be perfect," he sighed.

Monica nodded in agreement, "It'll be nice to not have to leave. I hate the mornings I wake up alone, now. I've gotten so used to spending them with you."

"That's the best part of my day," Chandler admitted, "In the early mornings, when we first wake up, and we're both still too tired to get up, but not tired enough to fall back asleep, and we just hangout in bed, cuddle and talk, and sometimes fool around." He smiled sentimentally.

Monica laughed. "You are such a sap."

Chandler smiled. "You won't tell Joey, will you?"

"Trust me, honey, from what Rachel's told me, Joey is as much a sap as you are. I don't know why the two of you bother going through the effort of pretending to be all tough and manly."

"It's a pride thing," Chandler explained, "Do you tell Rachel everything?"

Monica grinned. "Not everything. We've gotta have some secrets. She does know that I convinced you to wear my underwear to work one day, though," she said with a straight face.

Chandler gasped in shock at the admission, offended, "I cannot believe you told her that! How am I supposed to face her tomorrow knowing she knows _that_?"

Monica couldn't suppress her laugher any more. "Just kidding!" she laughed, "You should have seen your face!"

Chandler rolled over on top on Monica, "I can't believe you would do that! That's just mean! You owe me."

Monica smiled up at him seductively, running a finger down his chest, "Is that so? What can I do for you, Mr. Big?"

Chandler's grin threatened to split his face. "I can think of a few things," he said slyly, kissing her neck gently. Monica allowed him to bestow the affection upon her, running her fingers through his hair, gently.

After a few heated minutes, she called out, "Wait! I need to change into my nightclothes!"

"What? Now?" Chandler growled, unhappy with the sudden turn of events. They were so close… "You need to change clothes now?" he whined, "You know you're just going to take them off, again, right?"

Monica pouted. "You're no fun. I just wanted to wear something lacy," she claimed, persuasively.

Chandler sighed and nodded, tempted. "Fine," he agreed, watching as his girlfriend rolled out of bed, heading for his dresser, several drawers of which were stuffed with her clothes. In an orderly fashion, of course. He would expect nothing less of Monica.

Conscious of Chandler's hungry eyes on her, Monica removed her clothes slowly, undoing buttons and clasps at a leisurely pace, teasing him. Knowing Chandler was watching, she felt tingly and warm all over, in spite of the chill she should have felt after removing her garments. Smiling at him mischievously over her bare shoulder, she pulled a lacy black negligee out of the dresser, holding it in front of her body, "How about this one?"

Chandler shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant, as if watching his girlfriend debate over bedtime attire in the nude wasn't a huge turn on. "It's okay," he said casually, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he tried to glimpse her body behind the sheer cloth.

Not satisfied with the faux lukewarm response, Monica tried again, holding up a red satin negligee in front of herself instead, "How about this one?"

Chandler's façade cracked a fraction as he ogled. He shrugged, offering as casually as he could muster, his voice cracking anyway, "It's nice." Monica dropped the garment she was covering herself with a few inches, allowing Chandler to glance more bare skin, knowing before she did the effect it would have. She would win the little game she started at all costs. It wasn't cheating… it was persuasion.

Chandler sighed at the sight, unable to resist her torture any longer. Why was he so weak? And why did she know all the right buttons to push? "Monicaaa!" he whined, "Can you please just pick something and come back to bed? Please?" he begged.

She shook her head, staring at him pointedly, so he added, "You look extremely sexy in everything. Like a goddess. Now?" he asked, hopefully.

Monica grinned and tossed the negligee aside carelessly, stepping towards bed, completely naked.

"I love it when you're messy," he teased, in reference to the discarded nightgown, pulling her into bed with him, before she could go back to store it neatly in the dresser. It was quickly forgotten, as Chandler kissed her. "You're cruel, you know that?" he groaned, once they pulled away and she was tucked underneath the covers with him.

"You know you love me," Monica pecking him lightly.

Chandler grinned back, wrapping his arms around her bare form, "I do. And I like your outfit of choice, too, by the way. It's very flattering on you."

Monica smile broadened, "I thought you would. Care to show me how much?"

"Hell yeah," Chandler agreed eagerly, all thoughts of Mary Angela and the day's events long since pushed out of his mind. He was with Monica, now, and happier than he could remember being in a long time. With Monica and his daughter in his life, he knew he had all he'd ever need to be happy.

Life was looking up.

xx

_Yup. That's it! The end! Can you believe it? Over 100,000 words later, here we are :P I hope you all enjoyed this series as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_Sorry for the delay, but this has been done for a while. Since the weekend, at least, but ffnet has been behaving very badly. The whole log-in portion of the site was frozen up for three days, straight.  
_

_I'm very strongly considering doing an epilogue :) Actually I'm pretty sure I will, so long as I can pull together the vague ideas I have for it in my head. Expect to see that in the next couple weeks or so. I've been quite busy recently, with work, since my return to university, so I haven't had much time for writing, and I miss it :P  
_

_Keep a lookout for a new story from me sometime soon, too :) I've decided on a story-idea and I'm super excited about getting to it._

_Anyway, thanks for reading and please leave a review and make my day :)_


	18. Epilogue

**Listen To Your Heart - Epilogue**

xx

_**Three years Later – Christmas Eve**_

xx

Seven-year-old Michelle rushed up to her parents, a brightly wrapped gift in hand, drawing their attention away from the conversation they were having with her aunt and uncle. She smiled angelically at her father, "Daddy?"

Chandler, Monica and Michelle were celebrating Christmas Eve with the Tribbiani clan, as Chandler had done since before Michelle was born. When Monica and Chandler had become engaged three years previous, she had joined in on the tradition.

Plastering on her best puppy-dog face, Michelle waved the gift at her father, who was always the first one to give in. "Can I open this one, now, Daddy? Please? Just one?"

Chandler looked to Monica questioningly, causing Joey and Rachel to laugh. He would never be the one to deny his daughter anything. Monica rolled her eyes and addressed Michelle directly, "Sure, honey. Just one though. Save the rest for tomorrow morning, okay?"

"I wanna open the one from Auntie Angie," Michelle stated firmly clutching it tighter, "It's the biggest!"

Monica nodded. "Okay. Just make sure she knows you're opening it and you thank her when you do, alright? She's in the kitchen with Gramma, getting Christmas dinner ready."

"Okay!" Michelle agreed, hurrying off towards the kitchen, eager to open the gift before her stepmother changed her mind. Monica and Chandler laughed as they watched her go.

"She's just as impatient as you, you know," Monica told Chandler teasingly.

"You're one to talk! And, I can be very patient!" Both Joey and Rachel, who had been listening, scoffed. "What?" he questioned.

"Do you remember when Caleb was born?" Rachel prompted, with an eyebrow raised, bouncing her one-year-old son on her lap, "When you threatened to go home, because you were sick of waiting in the hospital for him to be born?"

"That doesn't count," Chandler complained, "We'd been waiting 46 hours! That's pretty patient, Rachel! Who takes 47 hours to have a kid, anyway? That's nearly two whole days. I've seen enough ER to know that's a long time, even for a first child!"

"ER?" Joey chuckled, "Seriously, dude?"

Chandler flushed lightly. "Monica likes it. I like doing things with my wife, dude!"

"Sure, man," Joey laughed.

"Really, Joe? Is that how you feel?" Chandler smirked, adding maliciously, "Rachel told me you've gone to get pedicures with her!"

"Rach!" Joey complained to his wife, "Why would you tell him that? Why?"

Rachel shrugged, noncommittal, "I thought it was sweet. I was proving what a great husband you are!"

"Yeah! And making me seem gay!"

An argument was avoided as Michelle rushed back into the room claiming everyone's attention. She was pulling Mary Angela behind her with one hand, her gift clutched tightly in the other. "Aunt Angie," she complained, "Daddy and Monica said you have to watch me open it, or I don't get to. Come onnn!"

Mary Angela smirked at the couple, taking the empty seat next to Chandler on the couch. Over the years all hard feelings between them had disappeared, and they had reemerged as good friends. "She's taking after you more and more, each day, Chandler!" Mary Angela joked to her ex-husband, "At least as far as her impatience goes!" All the others burst into laugher.

Chandler rolled his eyes. "Apparently that's a common opinion."

Mary Angela shrugged, "Just pointing it out as I see it," she claimed, most of her attention focused on Michelle who had plopped down at their feet, and was tearing the pretty silver paper that covered her gift to shreds.

All the adults watched her, a bright smile bursting across her face as she unearthed a doll from the tissue paper-filled box. Hugging the doll, she exclaimed a quick thanks to her Aunt, before hurrying out of the room to show off her new possession to her grandparents and Joey's other sisters and their kids.

"Looks like you scored a winner, Angie," Monica smiled. "She loves it."

Mary Angela smiled at the compliment, "Thanks, Monica."

"Now, she's gonna be disappointed with her gifts tomorrow," Monica teased.

Joey scoffed. "Doubt that! You guys spoil her rotten. You spent more on her this year than my parents spent on me my whole childhood combined!"

"Don't look at me," Monica laughed, "That's all her Daddy. Michelle has him wrapped around her little finger."

"Geez," Chandler complained, "Can't I get any peace around here? Now I'm being blasted for wanting my little girl to be happy on Christmas? Besides, Rachel's even worse! Have you seen the mountain of gifts she got your son?" he asked Joey, pointing at Caleb who was playing with the bow from Michelle's gift, fascinated, "Though it looks like he'd have been just as happy with a piece of ribbon."

Joey shrugged, "We all know Rachel loves to shop. Buying stuff for Christmas is her specialty." He frowned, "Or buying stuff for anything, really."

Rachel shrugged, knowing it was true, pausing bouncing her son momentarily, in order reach out a hand to prevent him from trying to stuff the shiny bow in his mouth.

Monica grinned as she watched him. "He is just so adorable, Rach."

"Oh I know," Rachel grinned proudly, "He looks just like Joey, doesn't he?"

"Nah," Joey claimed, allowing his son to grab his finger, "He looks like his Mommy. He's got your hair and your eyes," he explained. They smiled at one another briefly and Rachel planted a sweet 'thank you' kiss on her husband's lips.

Mary Angela grinned at her brother, jokingly, "You guys make me sick, you're so happy!" She paused. "And I don't even have a boyfriend," she sighed.

"Can I hold him?" Monica asked, staring at the baby longingly, "He is just so precious!" Rachel nodded. "Yes you are!" Monica cooed to the baby, as Rachel transferred him into her arms. Chandler wrapped an arm around her, allowing the baby his wife was holding to play with his fingers. "You like your Auntie Monica and Uncle Chandler, don't you Caleb?" Monica cooed. Caleb babbled something incomprehensible in response, pleased with all the attention he was garnering.

"You look like a natural, with a baby in your arms," Mary Angela noted to Monica. "You were born to be a Mom."

"Thanks," Monica said, smiling genuinely. The way they got along now, it was hard to believe they had ever been sworn enemies.

"Yeah," Rachel added, "You and Chandler have been married almost a year now. When are you planning on hearing the pitter patter of little feet in the Bing household?"

Monica smiled, looking at her husband shyly, "Soon enough, right, baby?"

Chandler grinned back. "Whatever you say, darling."

xx

"Dinner was delicious, Ma," Joey told his mother, as all the dinner dishes were being cleared away, "You make the best turkey!" he paused, "So… what's for dessert?" The group laughed.

"Mon baked a ton of Christmas cookies this afternoon," Chandler offered, "If you're looking for something for dessert, Joe. We were a little worried we wouldn't be able to fit them in the car with Michelle and all the presents, but we managed. Though they should last us until next Christmas."

"We've got two kinds of pie, brownies and fruit, too," Gloria added, "And I think Cookie brought some dessert trifle."

"Awesome!" Joey grinned, "The best part of Christmas is the food!" Chandler shook his head and smiled at his bestfriend's enthusiasm. Joey may have grown up a lot in the past few years, but some things never changed.

Rachel patted her husband on the back, and handed him Caleb. "Do you mind giving Cae a cookie, too, honey? You know how much he loves cookies."

Joey nodded, taking his son easily, "Sure thing," he said, settling his son on his lap, "The Tribbiani men will have dessert together, right, Cae?" The baby gurgled in response, gladly accepting the chocolate chip cookie his father handed him, setting about gnawing on it immediately.

Chandler rose from the table, excusing himself, "I'm gonna go get Michelle ready for bed. She's looking kinda tired," he gestured to his daughter who was lounging sleepily on the couch with a few of Joey's sisters' children, who had finished dinners hours earlier, while the adults opted to stay and talk over coffee. "Running around with all her cousins has really tired her out."

Joey nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she looks exhausted. I think Caleb is gonna be following after he's finished his cookie," he added, noting his son's droopy eyes.

"I'll come with you, sweetie," Monica offered, rising. "I love watching you read her _The Night Before Christmas_," she explained. Chandler grinned, accepting her hand in his, leading her over to his daughter.

"Michelle, honey, it's time for bed," he said quietly.

"Aww, but Daddy, I wanna play with my dollies with Sylvie and Tina. How come they get to stay up if I don't?"

"They're older than you, honey," Monica explained, "Besides, don't you want to go to bed? The sooner you go to sleep, the earlier you can wake up and open your presents."

Michelle nodded eagerly, "Is Santa coming?"

Her parents nodded, smiling brightly. "Yep, he wouldn't miss his favourite little girl, would he?" Chandler asked. Michelle shook her head in agreement, allowing him to pick her up, and carry her around the house to say goodnight to all of her family, before leading her into the bedroom she would be sleeping in.

"Are you gonna read me the Christmas story, Daddy?" Michelle wondered, causing Monica to grin, knowing she was referring to _The Night Before Christmas_. It had become tradition over the past few years for the three of them to cuddle in bed on Christmas Eve and read it together.

Chandler grinned, "Of course I am, sweetie, just, let's get you changed into you PJs and ready for bed first, okay?" Together, Monica and Chandler made quick work of getting Michelle dressed and ready for bed, and tucking her in. Almost immediately after Chandler and Monica laid down, one of them on either side of her, the picture book version of _The Night Before Christmas_ open between them, the little girl's eyelids began drooping tiredly, the busy day catching up with her.

Within ten minutes Michelle was fast asleep. Chandler smiled over his daughter at Monica, reading the last lines even more softly than he had been, so as to not wake her.

Monica smiled at him, getting up from her side of the bed, sitting down next to him on his side, "That was a great reading, Bing. It gets better every year," she claimed, kissing him gently. "Just proves I was right all along, when I said you were an amazing Daddy."

Chandler grinned back. "I hope so," he said, "If I am, a lot of it has to do with you. We make a great team."

"Yeah," Monica agreed, softly, "We really do."

He stood, pulling her with him, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist, from behind. They watched Michelle in silence, before Monica asked shyly, "Can you believe in a few months we're gonna have two of these?"

Chandler nodded, placing a hand on her stomach gently. "I can't wait. I love being a Daddy," he kissed her neck gently, "It's going to be amazing doing this all over again with you. I love you."

Monica nodded, resting her head back against his chest contentedly, "Do you think Michelle will be okay?" she asked, worriedly, "I'm her step-mom and I love her so, so much, but I'm not her 'Mommy.' Do you think she'll be jealous of the baby?"

"She'll be fine, honey," Chandler promised, "She has so many people who love her. She knows you're the closest thing she has to a Mommy and that you love her like one, even though she doesn't call you 'Mommy'. We're going to love her just as much as ever, and she'll be a great big sister. You know how she loves to boss everyone around. She may not be biologically yours, but there's a little of you in her, baby."

Monica laughed, hitting Chandler in the arm lightly. "If that's your idea of a compliment… you have some learning to do, yet."

"I'll work on it," he promised with a laugh, "But, seriously, Mon, she's like you in so many ways. She adores you. And she knows you adore her. Everything is going to be perfect, trust me."

"I do," she nodded, turning in his arms, hugging him, "I'm just nervous."

"Is that why you didn't want to tell everyone? He asked gently, "When Rachel asked about it this afternoon… I thought we agreed we were going to tell everyone, while we were here for the holidays?"

"I know," Monica agreed, shrugging, "And I do want to. I don't know, I've just liked having this as our little secret. I'm kind of surprised Rachel and Joey don't know, already. You know how they love to get all up in our business. Anyway, I'm only 9 weeks. They don't recommend telling people until you pass the three month mark, usually."

"I know, sweetie," he agreed, "But Dr. Long did give you the go ahead last week. I'm comfortable with whatever you want, though. I'm just excited; I can't wait to share it with everyone. You know I never wanted Michelle to be an only child."

"I know," she agreed with a smile and a kiss, "Tomorrow, maybe? It'll be a nice family Christmas gift."

"Deal," he agreed, intertwining his fingers with hers, and pulling her out of the room, "Come on, we don't want to wake Michelle; not that I think a hurricane could wake her now. But on the off chance… she'll be cranky if she wakes up and finds it's not Christmas, yet. And somehow I've been elected as Santa this year. I've got to dress up for the older kids and hand out candy canes."

"Santa, huh?" Monica laughed, following him, "I cannot wait to see that!"

xx

The next morning Chandler woke to the feeling of Monica being pulled out of his arms. Still half-asleep, he pulled her back toward him, before he realized Michelle was pulling on Monica's hand, trying to get her to wake up.

"Monnn! Daddyyy! Come on, we need to go see if Santa came! Christmas is gonna start without us!"

Shooting a wry smile at her husband, who returned it, Monica grumbled, "It's not even six yet, Michelle, Christmas is not going to start without us."

"What if it does?" she wondered, worriedly.

"It won't."

"But what if it does?"

"It won't," Monica said firmly, pulling her step-daughter onto the bed, and hugging her, "Just come here and sleep with me and Daddy for a bit, okay?" She pointed at Chandler who had all but fallen back asleep, his arms still wrapped around his wife. "Look," she pointed, "Daddy's tired. You don't want him to be cranky, do you?"

"No," Michelle pouted.

"Then come rest with us for a bit, okay? Not long, just until six, okay?"

"Okay," Michelle agreed with a frown, allowing Monica to wrap the blankets around her. A minute later, Monica had just started to drift off again when Michelle questioned, "Is it six yet?"

"No."

Michelle waited ten seconds before asking impatiently, "Now?"

Monica sighed. Clearly more sleep was not an option.

She detangled herself from Chandler and sat up, prodding him in the arm to wake him up. How could he fall back asleep so easily? Feeling a little irritated at his ability to sleep so soundly, while she had to suffer, Monica threw the covers off of him, allowing the cold winter air to hit his sleeping form.

He yelped and sat up, suddenly very awake, "That was mean," he complained, shivering.

"What?" Monica said with an innocent smile, "I was just helping you wake up. Michelle isn't going to wait a minute longer."

He stretched and rubbed his eyes. "There are nicer ways of doing that, you know," he protested good-naturedly, kissing her good-morning.

"I know," Monica said, flatly, "You had it coming, sleeping like that, while your wife deals with the kid."

"You guys are awake now, so come on!" Michelle whined, grabbing Chandler's hand in one of hers, and Monica's in the other, and trying futilely to pull them out of bed.

"We're coming, we're coming!" Chandler grumbled, fighting off sleep, "Grow some patience."

"See," Monica looked at her step-daughter, "What did I tell you? Cranky."

Michelle shrugged, smiling angelically. "But I wanna open presents," she explained, as if that made everything better.

Monica shook her head and laughed, wrapping her robe around her, checking to make sure her sleepy husband was doing the same.

Content that her parents were following her, Michelle raced down towards the living room where an ornately decorated tree stood, brightly wrapped presents stacked beneath it.

She immediately began digging through them for ones with her and her parents names on them.

As soon Monica and Chandler had settled into the couch, Michelle plonked a gift on each of their laps, and immediately began tearing into the pile she had set aside for herself.

By the time Joey, Rachel, Joey's parents and several of his sisters arrived five minutes later, the room was a whirlwind of giftwrap and ribbon.

"Whoa!" Joey exclaimed, "Did a tornado roar through here while we were sleeping, or did your wrapping drawer explode, Monica?"

"I think Hurricane Michelle is at the source," Monica teased, shaking her head at her step-daughter who was playing happily with one of her unwrapped toys.

Joey rolled his eyes, "You sound more and more like Chandler everyday. And it goes both ways! The other day, Chandler complained to me for not folding the toilet paper under so it's 'easier to find the end!'" Joey complained, mocking his friend in a funny voice. He shook his head in disbelief, "One day you guys are just gonna wake up and be one person!"

Chandler and Monica looked at one another and shrugged. The idea didn't sound so horrible…

Changing the subject, Chandler asked, "It's your first Christmas with Cae, guys. Are you excited?"

"Oh yeah," Rachel exclaimed, "It's going to be the best! We got him the cutest little bouncy seat thing…. And these little chew toy things… And some stuffed animals… It's gonna be good, trust me!"

"He doesn't seem to share your enthusiasm," Chandler said soberly, pointing to Caleb, who was blowing spit bubbles in Rachel's arms, looking decidedly bored.

"He hasn't opened his gifts, yet!" Rachel said indignantly.

Monica poked her husband in the side, causing him to smirk. "Chandler's just being a pain in the ass, Rach; it's a talent of his. I'm sure Caleb'll have a great first Christmas."

"He will," Rachel claimed, settling down on the carpet in front of the tree, with her son in her lap, helping him open his first gift.

"Look, Daddy! Look Mon!" Michelle exclaimed, "Santa brought me a teacher Barbie!"

"That's nice sweetheart," Monica claimed, "Did you get everything you wanted from Santa?"

Michelle shrugged, "Mostly everything. But he forgot one thing from the letter." A couple weeks before Christmas, Michelle had written and mailed a letter to Santa, which she had refused to let Monica or Chandler see, claiming it was top-secret.

"What's that, honey?" Chandler asked.

"A little brother," Michelle explained, "He must've forgot."

Hearing this, Joey burst out laughing, "Are we sure about that?" Whispering, so that Michelle wouldn't hear, he added jokingly to Chandler, "After playing Santa for the kids last night did you pay Monica a visit to drop off one last gift," he teased. Rachel laughed too, nudging her bestfriend.

When Chandler and Monica flushed, neither of them responding, Joey raised an eyebrow at his wife, "Looks like we may need to get the Santa suit dry-cleaned."

Monica flushed deeper, "It's not that." Chandler shook his head in agreement, causing their friends to smirk at them, thinking they were embarrassed. When the embarrassment didn't subside after a moment, Rachel and Joey looked at one another confused. Suddenly understanding, Rachel gasped and pointed at her friend.

"What?" Joey asked, clueless, before gasping in surprise, a little slower to catch on that his wife.

"Mon?" Rachel questioned, eagerly. "Are you? Are you guys?"

Monica bit her bottom lip to contain her enormous smile, and looked at Chandler briefly who gave her a 'go ahead' smile, wrapping an arm around her waist, subtly resting it on the side of her abdomen. Monica nodded slightly, adding as confirmation, "I'm pregnant."

"Oh my God!" Rachel exclaimed, "This is huge! I'm so happy for you guys! Oh! This is just so cool! Caleb's gonna have another cousin!"

"Pregnant? What's that, Daddy?" Michelle asked, looking up at her father, questioningly.

Chandler looked at Monica questioningly, not sure how to explain. She wouldn't remember Phoebe being pregnant with the triplets, and she'd never asked about Rachel the year before. Thankfully, he didn't have to come up with a response. Joey butted in, instead, "It means that Santa is going to be delivering your little brother after all, Mishi," he snickered, "He'll just be a bit late, that's all."

Michelle looked confused, "Okay," she nodded, "As long as he does. He's probably late 'cause he can't visit that many houses all in one day and didn't have time to come back," she explained rationally to the adults who laugh.

"Something like that," Monica agreed.

"Daddy look!" Michelle explained pointing to the plate of cookies, she suddenly remembered she had left out for Santa, "Santa ate all of the cookies." Chandler nodded, repressing his smile; much to Joey's chagrin he has been the one (as the 'Santa') elected to eat them. Joey had been quieted on the reminder there was a whole tin full in the kitchen, and to serve himself.

"That's great, honey. Did he leave a note?" Chandler asked innocently, knowing that he had. Michelle had been asleep long before her cookies had been eaten, but he wanted her to know her 'good deed' hadn't gone unappreciated.

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, finding it underneath the empty plate, "Dear Michelle," she read, carefully, "Thank you for the…" she paused, "Daddy's what's this word say?"

"Delicious," he answered.

"-delicious cookies. Love Santa," she finished, "He knew they were from me, Daddy! And he thought they were yummy!"

"That's great, sweetie," he smiled, "You must be on his good list for sure, now."

"Yep!" she agreed, turning back to play with her new toys a smile on her face.

Monica wrapped an arm around Chandler's waist cuddling against his side. "You never cease to amaze me at how good you are with her," she smiled, "Look how happy she is, now." She paused, momentarily appreciating her step-daughter's happiness. "Do you think our baby will have her smile?" she wondered.

Chandler shrugged, "I don't know. Michelle's adorable, but I want our baby to look like you. You've got a beautiful smile, too."

She grinned, "As long as he has your eyes."

"He?"

"You heard Michelle," she answered, "She wants a little brother."

"Since when did we start letting the seven-year-old make all the big decisions?" he joked.

"Hmm," Monica pretended to think, "I'm not sure. But I'm pretty sure it was you who started it. She was spoiled long before I was even in the picture. And speaking of spoiling, thank you for my necklace, it's gorgeous," she said appreciatively, kissing him gently.

Rachel, overhearing the comment, butted in, nodding in agreement, "It really is. It must have cost you a fortune. Joey never gets me jewelry."

"Do you blame him?" Monica laughed, "You return it all, anyway. I think he was smart getting you store credit at Saks."

Rachel couldn't help the smile that overcame her face. "Yeah. I get to go shopping! Are you coming with me for the post-Christmas sales, tomorrow, Mon?"

"Aren't the malls going to be crazy?" Monica asked, with a sigh.

"Yes, but everything is on sale!" Rachel countered, "And you're the best shopping buddy! I can't rip stuff out of people's hands like you can. I get laughed at," she pouted. "Williams Sonoma is having a sale, too…" she added, temptingly, knowing her friend adored finding new cooking gadgets.

"Fine," Monica agreed slowly, "But if some chick gets the last sweater in aqua, but there's one left in blue, you're taking the blue. I'm not getting into another screaming match."

"Deal!" Rachel agreed eagerly, "Hear that, Joey?" she asked her husband, "Your gift is making itself useful already!"

"That's great, babe," he said with a quick kiss, before setting his face in a pout.

"What's the matter?" Rachel asked, taking notice of her husband's expression.

Joey looked up at her pouting for a moment, before answering, "Caleb's pile is bigger than mine."

Rachel laughed, "Are you seriously telling me you're jealous of your son?"

Joey shrugged sheepishly, realizing how ridiculous it sounded, "No," he said, an embarrassed waver to his voice. He paused to think of a suitable excuse. After a moment genius struck. "I just don't want us to spoil him too much. When his pile of gifts is taller than he is, something's up."

Rachel shrugged, non-committal, pushing aside her husband's worries. If it meant she got to shop more, especially for her son, she was all for it. "Michelle turned out okay," she reasoned.

"Hey," Chandler complained, "Are you trying to imply something, here?"

Rachel smiled innocently. "Just stating a fact."

Monica patted him on the back consolingly. "Didn't we already discuss this, honey?"

"Yeah," he grumbled, "But we were joking around, weren't we?"

Monica laughed. "Sure we were, honey," she told him, her tone indicating that she was only appeasing him.

"If I remember correctly, we were saying you were spoiled, too. We can rectify that one, too, if you like," he threatened, teasingly.

Monica kissed his cheek, "Oh, but you wouldn't do that. You love me too much, and you're the biggest softie that ever lived."

Chandler shrugged, conceding that she was right, "You know me too well."

"Nah," she countered, with a smile, "Just the right amount."

Chandler smiled back at the sweet sentiment, revelling in his wife's affection. "Merry Christmas Mon."

"Merry Christmas to you too, baby." Monica looked around her, at her gathered family and friends, all of whom were enjoying their gifts and Christmas snacks, feeling a happy glow inside of her. "The best one yet," she added softly.

Chandler wrapped an arm around her, resting his hand on her stomach, "Somehow," he smiled knowingly, "I think the best is yet to come."

xx

_And that's a wrap! For real this time :)_

_Thank you so much to everyone who supported this story and reviewed faithfully along the way. I love you all for your encouragement :)_

_I know the Christmas theme is a little bit too late by a couple months, but it was my original intent to have this done before Christmas. But that didn't pan out, so here it is, anyway. Hopefully it's still a fun read, even if it's not seasonally appropriate :P_

_Now that this is done, look out for a new fic from me in the next couple weeks :)_

_Oh, and do me a favour? Review this one one last time?_

_:P_


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